Do The Hustle and Flow
by capercailiechild
Summary: Amnesiacs make really bad spies... unless they're being brainwashed by a renegade army. Throw in some space ponies, some seizures and near death, a Companion versus Companion fight, and a few kisses, plus a birthday waltz, and you've got this epic.
1. Intro

(Do the) Hustle (and Flow)

Subtitled as: The Residual Feeling of Warmth

"_Time for some thrilling heroics." – Jayne_

"_It's worse than you know." – Operative_

"_It usually is." – Mal_

Disclaimer, Acknowledgments, Dedication, and Soundtrack

"_Kaylee, what the hell's going on in the engine room? Were there monkeys? Some terrifying space monkeys maybe got loose?" – Mal_

Disclaimer

I don't own the lovely and beautiful characters of the "Firefly" (and now "Serenity") verse. A wonderful man named Joss does. (We all know and love Joss. Yay Joss! You're the man!) So please don't sue. I work in a cafeteria. You don't want my wages. Any characters you don't recognize (namely Miles Cromwell, Falstaff Rizzly, Abeni Hedge, Emilia Sage, Carole Trickey, and their respective posse parcels) belong to me. You may borrow them, but only if you ask _really_ nicely.

This story is set after the Big Damn Movie, with one caveat: _Wash didn't die_. I like Wash and he doesn't deserve to be dead in my story. So, he's not! Yay! (Shepherd Book? He's still dead.)

Acknowledgments

I would like to first thank Holly M for taking me to see "Serenity" in the first place and thereby starting my love affair with the "Firefly" verse, even if we did get lost. I politely decline from thanking the complicated bus system that took me to see "Serenity" the second time, mostly because I missed my connecting bus home.

Thank you to Brian for agreeing to let me write a character for him and being the best preview reader ever. Thank you to Val for coming up with her own character and throwing herself wholeheartedly into this. Thank you to Vikki for coming up with her own character and letting me play around with it. Thank you to Casey, the shiniest gal in the verse, for putting herself right where anybody sensible would be ("With the whores!") and making up a great new character.

All the nursery/nonsense rhymes River sings can be found on the Internet, mostly through and their multitude of nursery rhyme sites (which for some reason are overwhelmingly British… not that there's anything wrong with that, it's just interesting). You can find all of them there, _except_ for "Cups and plates and forks and spoons….," which I made up myself.

"In The Highway" is an actual song sung by The Peasall Sisters and can be found on the soundtrack for "O Brother Where Art Thou" starring George Clooney. Lyrics can be found on the Internet, although Kaylee sings all of them.

The title of the story comes from a song ("Do the Hustle") and a movie ("Hustle and Flow"). You can find those on the Internet too.

All Chinese phrases were found on the Internet at http/fireflychinese.home. is a rockin' awesome site), as well as some of the other stories posted on this site.

Idon't claim to have any medical knowledge, but Simon does, so he handles that.

The planets or worlds or towns I make up probably don't exist in the "Firefly" verse. The ones you recognize do, though.

Yes, I _know_ "space ponies" aren't real, and that real ponies don't talk. It was a sad day in Happy Town when that secret was revealed, but that's another story for another time.

Dedication

I dedicate this story to my handsome boy, Brian (known in this story as Miles Cromwell). He is the best boyfriend a girl could ask for, and one heck of a mean trombone player.

I also dedicate this to Duck-Duck-Goose and Dariel's Dove, "Firefly" fans in their own right, both of whom I miss very, very much. Rock on!

Soundtrack

These are the songs I had on repeat for the entire time I worked on this story. You may find them wonderful, or you may hate them. You can find them all on iTunes, where you can also legally download them if you want your very own soundtrack to go along with this story.

_General Listening:_

Eight Easy Steps – Alanis Morissette

I've Been Everywhere – Johnny Cash

Spice Up Your Life – Spice Girls

Lady Marmalade – from the _Moulin Rouge_ soundtrack

The Sign – Ace of Base

Tom's Diner (7"A) – Suzanne Vega & DNA

Milkshake – Kelis

Alive and Amplified – The Mooney Suzuki

One Two Step – Ciara featuring Missy Elliot

Without Me – Eminem

Intuition – Jewel

Catch My Disease – Ben Lee

The World is Black – Good Charlotte

Gotta Get Thru This – Daniel Bedingfield

Gold Digger – Kanye West featuring Jamie Foxx

Invisible Touch – Genesis

Imagine – A Perfect Circle

Come on Eileen – Dexy's Midnight Runners

Semi-Charmed Life – Third Eye Blind

Take It Off – The Donnas

Good is Good – Sheryl Crow

_During periods of writer's block, these were all on repeat until their lyrics were seared into my brain:_

Stars – Switchfoot

Never Let You Go – Third Eye Blind

All For You – Sister Hazel

Anyway, enjoy (Do the) Hustle (and Flow)! I hope you like reading it as much as I loved writing it! Don't forget to review!


	2. My Lips Taste Like Perfume

Disclaimer remains the same from the intro. If you've forgotten, head back to check it out.

"My lips taste like perfume."

Simon looked up from the book he was studying. His sister River was seated on the floor about fifteen feet away from him. Her eyes were closed, and, as he watched, her tongue ran slowly over her lips. "What?"

"Not her perfume, though. From a long time ago." She ran her tongue over her lips again.

"River." Simon stood up, closing the book, and went over to his sister. "Where are you?"

"My lips taste like perfume."

Kaylee stuck her head into the infirmary. "Cap'n wants to know if the two of ya are gettin' off the boat at the port o' call."

"Where are we docked?" Simon asked, tearing his attention away from River.

"Little place o' nothin' much," Kaylee admitted. "Folks who live there call it Wanderlust, as though a name alone will make people stop there."

"If it's not much, then why are we stopping?"

"Supplies and fuel," Kaylee replied. "Cap'n has some business to do, I guess."

"We'll get off," Simon decided. "Is that all right with you, River?"

"My lips taste like perfume."

Kaylee smiled. "What kind of perfume? If it's somethin' expensive, it's Nara's."

Simon shook his head. "I'm not sure she's with us. I think it's time to try a new medication."

"Why do you keep dopin' her up? What do you think it'll accomplish?"

"Wouldn't it be nice if River could have a conversation with us that didn't involve twisted metaphors and her drifting off halfway through?" Simon demanded. "Wouldn't it be nice if River could someday have actual relationships with people instead of threatening their lives?"

Kaylee sighed. "Simon… I know this is rough for you, seein' River like this. But don'tcha think it'd be better to let her… I don't know, figure this out on her own?"

Simon pursed his lips and looked down the walk to where River was still sitting, her eyes closed, crooning softly to herself. "I don't think she'll 'figure this out,' Kaylee. I'm not sure there's anything _to_ figure out. They took it all."

"Hey!" Jayne yelled from down the corridor. "We're here! Get yourselves out here a'fore Cap'n decides t' turn this boat around!"

Kaylee smiled sadly at Simon, swung her pack onto her shoulder, and left the infirmary. Simon went over to River and grasped her under the elbows and pulled her to a standing position. She swayed against him for a moment, eyelids fluttering. "My lips taste like perfume."

"I know. Come on, we're going to see Wanderlust."

The two siblings exited the ship and went blinking into the bright sunlight. The natives of Wanderlust were milling around in an open-air market. Most of them were swathed in brown or gray clothing. The women all had long hair, and most of them wore it back in tightly woven braids. Jayne was sidling up to one of the vendors, a fruit stall it looked like. Mal and Inara were trying hard to make it appear that they weren't walking in the same direction. Kaylee had run to catch up with Wash and Zoë.

Simon took River by the hand, and they slowly followed the rest of their crew members. They had just caught up to Mal at one of the stalls, and they were just in time to hear a man's voice speak out of the crowd. "Sir! You are captain of _Serenity_, are you not?"

The voice was extremely cultured, with a hint of an accent to it, and those gathered around heard no trace of slang imbedded in it. The man attached to the voice was nervous-looking and pale. He had a thatch of brown hair closely cut with spiky bangs, and a sprinkling of freckles across his rounded nose. He wore a thigh-length green shirt and baggy tan pants. Fastened cross-wise across his chest was a leather strap connected to a leather rucksack. His shoes were well-worn. There were no emblems or insignias anywhere on his clothing; nothing to suggest he belonged to another ship.

Mal looked over at the man, giving him an up-and-down glance. "Yes, I'm the captain of _Serenity_. Who wants t' know?"

"Myself and no other, sir. My name's Miles Cromwell. I'm looking for safe passage to… well, I'm not sure where."

"Wait a gorram minute," Mal said. "You want safe passage, but you're not sure t' where?"

The man nodded. "Yes, sir. You see, I've lost my memory."

"All o' it?" Jayne asked, suddenly appearing from nowhere. He was very good at that.

Miles nodded again. "All except my name, good sir. I've been here on Wanderlust for… ages now, eight years to be precise. No one here can tell me where I came from or what happened to me. I wandered out of the desert in these very clothes with this very bag, and have been here ever since. But I know I'm not meant to be here. I'd be honored if you'd grant me safe passage to wherever it is I'm meant to be."

Mal looked at Jayne, who looked at Wash, who looked at Zoë, who looked at Inara, who looked at Kaylee. Kaylee shrugged and looked at Simon. Simon did a half-shrug, and then quickly looked back at River, who was at the end of his arm-tether, scuffing her boots in the dirt, staring at the sky as though expecting something to fall from it at her feet. "You can pay, right?" Jayne asked.

Miles nodded quickly. "Of course. As much as you need." Upon seeing their glances, he quickly amended, "And what's reasonable for passage, of course."

"This is going to be costly," Mal countered. "You don't know where it is you need to go. I ain't runnin' a sightseeing tour. I've got jobs t' attend t'."

Miles pursed his lips. "I'm well aware of that. I'll see to it that we don't make any unnecessary stops."

Mal nodded. "Fine. You're welcome aboard, stranger. Don't expect any special treatment. You're one of the crew now, and you'll be expected to pull your share."

"That's all right by me. I'm sure doing some work will be a well-needed change from sitting around here, waiting for excitement to find me." He hitched his pack over his shoulder, although it had not moved since he had begun speaking to Mal; it seemed an after-thought, a nervous movement.

"My lips taste like perfume."

Everyone's attention turned to the pale girl pulling at Simon's arm. Her eyes were skyward and she seemed not to have anywhere particular to go, but still persisted at getting away from her brother, who kept a tight hold on her hand. "She's fine," Simon said quickly.

"Then we're gone," Mal said with a tight smile. "Unless there's somethin' else someone can't live without from this market."

"No, we're good, sir," Zoë said quickly. "We're gone."

"Good."

Back on the ship, Simon led River back to the infirmary and sat her down. "River, can you hear me?"

"It doesn't belong to her anymore."

"I'm going to give you a shot to help you sleep, all right? You hear me? You're going to sleep for awhile."

"You have to stop taking things away from her," River demanded.

Simon prepared the needle. River closed her eyes. "You keep taking, taking, taking, Simon. Sooner or later somebody's gonna catch up with you and they're not gonna want to give you what they have… you have to learn to _give_, Simon. _Give_."

He injected smoothly, so smoothly that her speech was not even interrupted. "Why do they always take? They never give anybody what they want. You're always… always…" Her eyes closed, her body went slack, and Simon caught her as she fell backwards onto the bed. "_Simon_," she whispered. "She said to me…"

And that was that. River was fast asleep. Simon cleaned up the infirmary and was just turning off the light when he heard a voice. It was the newcomer. "What's this?"

"This is the infirmary, sir," Simon said, moving to close the doors, attempting to block River from the man's prying eyes.

"What's wrong with her?" The voice held polite curiosity and a little bit of worry.

"Nothing." Simon attempted a half-smile at the man. "Let's go to the galley, shall we?"

Miles – was that the man's name? – gave one last glance through the window at Simon's sleeping sister, and then allowed the doctor to lead him away from the infirmary. "So, where is this ship bound, good doctor?"

"I really can't tell you," Simon responded. "We… uh… go with the wind."

Miles laughed at Simon's unintentional joke. "Well, if you had to hazard a guess, where would be the next place we're to set down?"

Simon shook his head. "You'd have to ask the captain."

"So I will."

They had reached the galley by then, and found Kaylee playing in a bowl of oatmeal, staring downward into the beige mess. Oatmeal had become a food staple on _Serenity_ ever since Mal and Zoë had somehow ended up with more than ten crates of it following a deal gone south. Simon had developed a taste for it, especially with all the things Kaylee liked to add to it. The bowl she was eating then appeared to contain some finely granulated sugar. "What'cha up to, Simon?"

"Just showing Miles the galley," Simon said with another forced smile.

"Where's River?"

"Asleep."

Miles took a seat at the large table, and had just began to ask a question when Jayne stormed in, swinging one of his favorite weapons, which he slammed loudly on the table. "Where in the gorram hell's m' good gun?"

"You mean that's not it?" Kaylee asked, wide-eyed and innocent.

"_No_," Jayne said with forced politeness. "This is _not_ the good un. This is Louise. I need Vera."

"Can't help ya," Kaylee said, getting up and dropping her bowl into the stainless steel tub filled with a combination of water and highly-concentrated detergent. "Got work t' attend ta."

Simon left Miles in the galley and went back to the infirmary, where he sat and read until awhile later, when something told him River was going to wake up. He wondered, a bit ironically, if the psychic talent was passing off onto him. He went over to his sister and watched as River's eyes flicked open, first peering at him with distrust, then seeming to maybe half-recognize him. "Simon?"

"That's me."

"They're taking and taking and taking."

"I know, mei-mei."

"And he's going to take it all away from us." She smiled, still a bit groggy from the drug. "He's going to take it, and you'll never see it coming… then I'll be gone."

"Who? No one's going to take you anywhere."

She closed her eyes again. "Sleep again, Simon. Watch out for him."

Her breathing became slow and regular, and her head fell slack against the pillow. In wonder, Simon looked back towards the galley, wondering if the new passenger was hiding something. If River was right – and when was she wrong? – things could get a lot more interesting for _Serenity_ and her crew.


	3. Trouble, Big and Scary

Disclaimer remains the same, check Intro for more info and soundtrack suggestions. :)

No one was around, so Miles Cromwell was taking the opportunity to orient himself on the new ship, which he thought was a piece of junk. He was studiously avoiding the engine room, because the mechanic was a bit cheerier than could be stomached when one hadn't eaten for several days. True enough, _Serenity_ had food aboard, and would give you a four-course meal if you liked oatmeal. Miles couldn't abide oatmeal much, but he figured he'd be learning to choke down the swill if it was the last thing he did.

The captain and his pilot and the pilot's wife, who seemed to be the captain's right-hand-man, were up on the bridge. The man they all referred to as "Jayne," who seemed to Miles little more than a thug-for-hire, was cleaning two guns at the galley's table, which seemed to Miles odd. Why clean your weapons at a place where you ate? That reminded him of something someone had once said to him: "Don't shoot where you eat." But who had said such a thing, and why? Miles had cleaned a gun – he had one in his pack, and knew its workings as intimately as he knew the worship service on Wanderlust – but never at a table where he ate.

Miles moved from the galley to the corridor near the infirmary. He looked in through the window. The doctor – though he seemed _far_ too young to be a doctor, in Miles's opinion – was sitting at the counter in the corner, head bent over a leather-bound book. Where the boy had gotten such a book was beyond Miles; he hadn't seen any books of that kind – or any books other than his own, for that matter – on Wanderlust in all the time he'd been there.

And then there was the puzzle of the little girl in the bed across the infirmary. Or, he corrected himself, the girl. She was by no means a child physically, though maybe mentally, she wasn't all there. She'd been normal-looking when Miles had boarded _Serenity_, but he was changing his mind about that. She was too skinny, too pale, too tiny to be a useful part of this crew. And there was something odd about her voice, something odd about the way she moved, graceful like. It reminded Miles of something, but, as usual, he couldn't remember what.

Miles wound his way through the cargo hold and back down the clattering stairs to the dining room. Jayne had mysteriously disappeared, as had his weapons. The mechanic was back in the seat she'd been in earlier, drinking something from a tin mug. Upon seeing him, her face lit up like lights at Christmas. "Mr. Cromwell!"

"Miles, please."

"Miles, then," she said with an even bigger smile. "Want some oatmeal? I can fix ya some quick like."

"No thank you," he hurried to assure her. "I just… Kaylee, is it?" Upon her nod, he continued, "I just have some questions."

"I'd hope t' have the answers for ya!" She set her mug on the table. He peered down into it for a moment as though he could divine the answers there, but all he saw was brown liquid with something white floating in it.

His stomach turning, he leaned away from the mug, and saw her smiling face yet again. "Uh… the girl, what's wrong with her?"

Instantly the smile disappeared and was replaced by a look of utter confusion. "Wrong? With River? Nothin' more than's wrong with any o' the rest o' us."

So the girl had a name. _River_. For some reason, he could just tell this information would be important to him at some point. Miles tucked it in his brain's files, which were woefully lacking. "The doctor, he seems very attached to her…"

"Why shouldn't he? He's her brother." She was still looking suspiciously at him.

_Brother_. His utter devotion and attempt to keep her suffering quiet suddenly made sense to Miles. "Any chance you know where we're setting down next?"

Finally the smile returned to her face, and it was like the sun popping out after days of storms. "We're settin' down in a bit of a place called Spake's Fault," she answered. "A little bit o' nothin' much… but I suppose after Wanderlust anything looks nice t' ya."

He nodded in assent. "Yes, it does. Thank you kindly, Kaylee."

"Anythin' t' be of service t' ya!" she said, grinning broadly and taking a swig from the mug of disgusting beverage.

Miles turned to leave and was nearly broadsided by Jayne. "Watch where yer goin'," the thug said.

"My apologies," Miles said dryly, and proceeded out of the dining room.

"River!" he heard someone shouting. "River, get back here!"

Miles leaned against the wall, listening to the commotion from down the hallway. Before the doctor could say anything else, the girl darted past him, giggling maniacally. There was a thump as she hit someone else, and then Miles heard the captain say, "Watch yerself, girlie! Y' keep runnin' bout like that and there'll be trouble a' foot!"

"What's the news, Cap'n?" he heard Kaylee ask.

Before he could answer, a voice crackled over the intercom. Miles recognized the voice as that of the pilot. "Uh… guys? We've got trouble. And it's big. And scary. Lemme flash it down t' ya."

Miles rounded the corner to see Mal, Zoë, Jayne, Kaylee, the girl, the Companion, and the doctor staring at the screen. On it was projected a huge man with scars puckering his ugly face. "Cap'n Malcolm Reynolds," the ugly man chuckled. "Bin waitin' a while t' see ya. Yer not the easiest face in the verse t' find, ya know?"

"I try to keep it that way," Mal answered. "And who might you be?"

"Ah, lemme introduce meself," the ugly man replied. "I'm no other than Falstaff Rizzly. And I believe you have two things I want."

"Oh, do we?" Mal asked, as though he was surprised.

"Well, make that three," the man amended. "You've picked up a passenger, haven'tcha?"

"I fail to see what business that is of yours."

"Well, you keep im from me, it'll _become_ yer business faster then you kin spit." The ugly man snorted and drew a massive hand across his nose, which was bisected by two scars. "And what's more, you've got a girl."

"Oh, God, not _this_ again," Jayne muttered. "Everybody wants her so bad, they kin _have_ her."

"Jayne, you're talking," Mal said out of the corner of his mouth.

"This girl… she'll tell ya why that man you've got on board's nothin' but trouble," Falstaff Rizzly continued. Then he smiled, which looked as out of place on his face as a tattoo of a spider monkey would have looked out of place on the lovely Companion's face. "He's nothin' but trouble, mark m' words, Cap'n."

"What's the third thing?" Mal demanded.

"Believe it's in yer cargo hold. You may've picked it up awhile ago; you may not even remember why you've got it. Well, it's not yers. You set down anywhere in this verse, we're all over ya." He smiled again. "My men are the best trained anywhere in the verse."

"Funny, the Alliance thinks the same thing of their men," Mal informed him.

"Well, ya best be thinkin' what you've got that doesn't belong t' ya. Although, considerin' the work ya do, I'd wager there's a _lot_ on board that's not yers." Rizzly leaned forward, close enough to tip his hat to the assembled audience, which he did. "Be seein' ya."

The wave clicked off, and Wash's voice said via intercom, "What in the hell was that?"

"His name's Falstaff Rizzly," Mal answered.

"What does he want, you wager?" Zoë asked.

Mal shrugged. "Your guess is as good as mine."

"He's going to take me."

"River," Simon said, putting his hands on her shoulders. "River, no one's taking you anywhere."

"Cept maybe back t' bed," Jayne muttered, but quieted upon the captain's death glare.

"He's going to take me and you'll never see me again."

"No one's taking you anywhere," Simon repeated.

"Take her to bed," Mal said quietly to Simon, who nodded.

"He isn't who he told you is! He remembers! He _remembers!_ They're going to kill us all and he's going to sit there and drink our blood from his cup! He's going to bathe in it, laugh at us for being silly enough to die and he's a _liar!_ He's always lying and cheating and taking from the rich!"

"River," Simon said, more urgently, but still trying to be calm. "Come on."

"_No!_" she shrieked. "He is _lying_! Look deep in his eyes, he's not who he says he can be!"

No one saw it coming, least of all Miles. Before anyone could blink, the girl had scooped up a wrench Kaylee had left on the table, and clunked Miles in the head. He managed to stumble down the hallway, clutching his head, dizzy. With her other hand, she drew a knife no one had noticed missing from her boot and took a swing at Simon with both weapons. He ducked, trying to grab her around the stomach, and sustained a long cut over his eyebrow and possibly a concussion.

"What in the ruttin' hell's the word, Doc?" Mal yelled, but Simon was too busy clutching his forehead to hear.

Mal and Zoë had drawn their guns, as had Jayne, but none of them moved to fire for fear of hitting someone innocent. River moved in between them, keeping the door behind her at all times.

"Doc, ya got a drug fer this?" Jayne demanded.

Groggy from the pain, Simon managed to shake his head in the negative before he collapsed on the floor. Kaylee instantly knelt next to him.

River applied the wrench to Mal's forehead and then sliced him across the arm with the knife. Jayne moved carefully around her, remembering last time's crotch-grabbing incident. "What's the gorram word to put her sleepy-bye?"

"I don't know," Zoë said worriedly, wishing that Simon had taught it to them.

"He _isn't on your side!_ He's going to kill us all in our sleep!" River shrieked.

"River," Mal said cautiously. "River, think about what yer doin'."

"Shoot the gorram girl!" Jayne said to Mal.

"He's going to kill you," she said, softer, shaking her head as though in disbelief. "You're never going to see it coming. Don't say I didn't warn you… his hands, _his hands!"_

Mal moved to jump for her. He missed, knocking the arm with the knife across her face. She didn't even flinch as the knife ran temple to chin, opening up her face like a crevasse in an earthquake. With one last pained glance at Mal, she ducked out the door and ran towards the passenger's bunk.

Down the hall, she found his tiny room. Miles had managed to stumble into his room and now lay on the floor, unconscious. Uncomprehending as to what had happened, she put a hand to her face and brought it away bloody. She wiped it on her dress. Then she moved to lock the door. They would be coming after her. And Simon would put her to sleep again, but before he did, she had to show them that they were wrong about their "peaceful" passenger.


	4. They're Not Gonna Catch Us

"River!" _Thump, thump, thump_ as Simon pounded on the door.

River, moving softly around the tiny bunk, set the knife on the floor, then found the unconscious man's leather knapsack. The leather was worn and cracked and very soft to the touch, almost warm. It was held shut by a woefully inadequate series of knots. Her deft fingers quickly undid the cords and pulled the sack open. She upended it over the bed and watched as the contents spilled out.

Nothing at first particularly interested her. There was a canvas pouch with drawing pencils and sticks made out of a chalky material. River drew one of the sticks across her palm and watched as a chalky blue line appeared. There were assorted credits and coins. There were two books, both on Earth-That-Was philosophy. And a small gun, which River found amusing due to the man's obvious evil nature. Evil-doers always had big guns. Just look at Jayne. And, finally, two disks of some sort.

The door swung open, and Simon, bleeding profusely from a gash on his forehead, yelled the safe word. River collapsed to the floor, the wrench she'd used as a weapon clattering to the floor beside her. Jayne moved into the bunk, gun drawn, in case either River or Miles moved even an inch. "Don't worry, Doc. They're out like a ruttin' light."

Simon moved to River's side and took her pulse. Mal appeared in the doorway, bleeding as well, a bruise appearing over his right eye. "What the hell was that about? That gorram girl's gonna get us killed one day. Either that, or we're gonna kill _her_."

Simon stood. "She was saying something about Miles not really being who he claimed to be, and then she just… lost it."

"Jayne, chain her up," Mal ordered. The bulky man moved to obey the captain's orders. To Simon, Mal said, "Let's get patched up and then we'll see what's really going on."

Simon nodded, then noticed the mess River had made from Miles's belongings. "Disks, captain. Should we check them out?"

Mal had been pushing the passenger into a sitting position, all the better to tie him to the bunk. "Sure. Take em to Wash." Then, considering his words, he added, "Best put somethin' on that cut."

In the corridor, he heard Kaylee. "Everybody all right? Where's River? Is it over?"

"She's with Jayne. And it's over for now," Simon said, stepping into the hallway. They spoke briefly for a moment and then their footsteps echoed away.

Mal finished tying the passenger to the bunk and exited, locking the door behind him.

Once Simon had patched the crew as well as he could, and River was safely locked in the storage hold, they gathered on the bridge to watch the communications that had been stored on the disks. Wash slid them into the reader and tapped a code into the machine. Immediately a man appeared on the screen. He was wearing a dark purple tunic with a circular badge sewn onto it. He began to speak. "Agent K7401PL9, you have been tasked with infiltrating the PRFO and removing their leader, Falstaff Rizzly. Your mission must be completed and noted in order for you to safely be able to exit the Starboard Force." The message clicked off.

"What's the PRFO?" Kaylee asked.

"Peoples' Resistance Front of Obfuscata," Mal and Zoë said as one. Mal continued, "This message must be at least ten years old."

"How d' ya figure, Mal?" Jayne questioned.

"Well, Mr. Cromwell said he'd been on Wanderlust for eight years, and I'm gonna give him the benefit of the doubt and believe him. What's more, the Starboard Force ceased to exist nine years ago. They were replaced by the Bugler Battalion. And Falstaff Rizzly took over the PRFO ten years ago, and he's not dead yet."

"So… that makes Miles a spy," Kaylee said in wonder.

"But a good spy," Mal informed her. "The PRFO has gotten nearly as bad as the gorram Reavers, cept, o' course, they're still human."

"So if Miles was tasked to kill Falstaff Rizzly, the PRFO must know about it," Wash mused.

"Which is why they're coming after us; they know we have him," Zoë mused.

"But they're not gonna catch us," Mal said firmly.

The conversation was interrupted suddenly by a loud and terrible scream. Inara jumped. Simon said, "River!" and took off at a run, Kaylee moving after him.

In the cold darkness of the storage locker, the two found River pulling at the cuffs latched firmly around her pale, skinny wrists, which were bleeding from the effort. As Simon knelt to face her, she screamed again, tears dripping down her face. "Simon," she said, panicked. "Simon, tell them – _tell _them! Tell them it wasn't me!"

"Shhh, shh," Simon said, putting his hands on her shoulders, trying to calm her.

"_Tell_ them!" she screamed at him. "Oh God oh God stay away from me I'll kill you, everybody's covered in blood, it's so cold, so cold…"

"Kaylee," Simon said quietly, "go to my bunk and get the black bag that's on the shelf in there. And a pan of water and a bowl of oatmeal. Please."

"So cold," River repeated.

Kaylee nodded and moved off quickly.

"River," Simon said, putting his hand on her forehead, which was ice cold, "you have to calm down."

"So cold, please tell them so I can go home."

Simon sat down across from her, wiping the blood that had been on his hand on his pants. Her eyes were wild, her face dripping more blood onto her already bloody dress as she pulled at the manacles. "Stop _hurting_ me!" she yelled, the chains hitting the grating with a harsh metallic sound. "Stay away from me I hate you!" Her breathing was becoming fast and ragged. "Simon, _help me! _I can hear them and they're telling me I'm dead and I know I know I know _I know_ I'm not!"

Kaylee returned carrying what he'd asked for. Simon quickly opened the black bag and drew out a hypodermic needle and a vial of clear liquid. He filled the needle, wiped River's arm with an antiseptic and injected the drug into her. Her breathing slowed and the screaming stopped, although the tears didn't. "Simon," she said, softly, as though she was very far away, "Simon, they hurt me."

"I know, mei-mei." His heart was aching at the sight of her, chained up and unable to focus or even speak clearly. He took a cloth from his bag, dipped it in the water, and began to wipe the blood from her face and wrists. He bandaged her wrists as best he could, then wrapped long strips of fabric around them to protect them from further damage. He applied ointment to her face. By the time he was done, she was as relaxed as she usually was while drugged. Simon fed her some of the oatmeal, scraping it off her face with the spoon when she spit it out, or it drooled from her lips, which were slowly going slack. He washed her face one final time and then covered her with a blanket Kaylee had thoughtfully brought. The blanket was quickly darkened with her tears. Her eyes closed at last, tears still running from them, and her body went limp, her head dropping.

Simon took her pulse; it was very slow but not dangerously so. Kaylee let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "That was pretty bad, huh?"

Simon nodded without speaking. When he did speak, a moment or so later, he said quietly, "I think she's getting worse. I think something's gone wrong."

He closed his eyes. Kaylee leaned against him and put her arm around him. They sat there in silence, Kaylee watching as River fought with her demons in a drug-induced, dream-filled sleep.


	5. Messages From the Great Beyond

Mal came in a few minutes later. He was holding a portable screen. "You need t' take a look at this."

"What is it, Cap'n?" Kaylee asked.

Mal handed her the screen. "Wash just picked this up."

Kaylee showed it to Simon, who had opened his eyes upon the captain's entrance. It was a map of the part of the verse where _Serenity_ was, showing the ship and the things she was closest to. And, appearing out of nowhere, what seemed to be a beam of light was pointed directly at the ship. "What is that?" Kaylee asked.

"It's a wave," Mal replied. "And it's pointed right at us… but we're not pickin' it up on any of the screens at the bridge, cept for just residual energy. It's comin' in, but it's not meant fer the rest of us."

All three looked at River.

"It's from the PRFO," Mal said decisively.

"How is it getting to her?" Simon wondered.

Kaylee shook her head. "Could be anythin' – jewelry, a plate in her brain, a drug somebody's slipped her… anythin' big enough to conduct a signal."

Simon got up, even though his legs had fallen asleep. He gently peeled the blanket from his sister and did a quick check to see if she had somehow started wearing jewelry without him noticing. "It'd have to be something big, right?"

"Not necessarily," Kaylee answered. "Could be small, if the PRFO's got good enough machines."

"Well, it's not jewelry." Simon rocked back on his heels. "I don't see any, except for that stupid ankle bracelet she bought on Persephone last time we were there… and that's not metal, so it can't be a transmitter."

Kaylee leaned forward and gently reached into River's hair near the back of her neck, as though trying not to disturb the sleeping girl, as though she had forgotten the girl was drugged. "Here." Her fingers came out clutching something small. She opened her hand and there in the center of her palm was a tiny gold disc with a bright red stone in the center and a clasp on the back. As they watched, the stone seemed to glow with an internal light.

"What in the gorram hell's that?" Mal asked.

"Betcha it's a transmitter," Kaylee said with a wry smile.

"How did you see that?" Simon asked in wonder.

"Just got lucky, I guess."

"We need to destroy that," Mal said. "The faster the better."

River moaned in her sleep and tried to swing her hands at something, trying to fight, the chains clanking and restricting her movement. "The damage has already been done," Simon said sadly. "They've already had enough time to imprint their message on her brain. There's no telling how long that's been there."

"Kaylee, destroy it," Mal ordered.

"They've probably been able to track her movements," Simon mused. "They know where we are."

"Kaylee," Mal said warningly.

Kaylee put the disc on the ground and stomped on it with her boot, once then twice. When she lifted her foot again, the transmitter was broken into very small pieces. Simon brushed them into his hand and put them carefully into a clean handkerchief he had in his pocket. "We'll throw this off at the next stop."

Kaylee nodded solemnly.

"We need t' interrogate Mr. 'I've-Lost-My-Memory' in there," Mal said, taking the portable screen back from Simon. He left with a scowl on his face.

"They must a' put that on her when we weren't noticin'," Kaylee said to Simon, who was still sitting in abject horror.

"I never let her out of my sight," Simon said.

"Cept when she's on jobs with the Cap'n." Off Simon's look, she continued, "Not that I think the Cap'n's lettin' anybody harm our girl here, but he's not always with her when they're on a job."

"What are we going to do?" Simon asked, still in shock. "Her brain's all scrambled again… I don't know if we have enough drugs to keep her sedated through this."

Kaylee shrugged. "So don't sedate her."

"What, and let her run wild? Have you forgotten…?" He touched the bandage on his forehead gingerly.

"Keep her in here," Kaylee said. She knew it wasn't the greatest solution, and she _did_ hate to see little River confined by the heavy chains, but she knew that otherwise they'd be spending all of their time and energy fighting off a teenage girl who could turn anything into a weapon. "Stay with her, let her talk it out, maybe she'll tell us somethin' useful about our spy. I can stay with her while you sleep."

Simon touched River's face and found it to be cold, but at least she was still breathing. He looked up at Kaylee, who was standing over him. "We'll do what we have to do. Thank you for the kind offer."

In response, she bent and kissed him on the cheek. "Anythin' fer you, Doc."


	6. But Ya Are Gonna Drug Her, Right?

Yeah, you got me. I don't own them any more than I did last chapter... You may wish to turn on: "You Get What You Give" - New Radicalsfor this chapter. :)

They slept in shifts, Simon and Kaylee, like clockwork. Simon would go down to his bunk, passing Kaylee on the way up, sleep for four hours, go back up, Kaylee going down to sleep. Every four hours, like clockwork. Twelve hours into the switch-off, River woke up. She woke up to find her friend Kaylee sitting on the grate across from her, doodling nonsense into a schematic of an engine. At first Kaylee didn't notice that her charge had woken up. Then River gasped and yanked at the chains, which was as good as leaping on top of a fly to kill it. "He's still here! You have to get rid of him!"

"What, sweetie?" Kaylee asked, looking up.

"He's going to take me away!"

"Nobody's going to take you anywhere, sweetie," Kaylee said, putting down the schematic. "Simon and I'll make sure o' that. And if anybody tries, Jayne'll shoot 'em down 'fore they can take ya anywhere."

"Simon. He's in trouble."

"He's right downstairs, sleepin'. Less somebody's hurt, then he's takin' care o' them."

"Did you see his hands? Did you _see them?_"

Kaylee shook her head. "Nope. Cap'n's the one did the interrogatin', not me."

"He is…" River's voice trailed off.

Hearing someone on the steps behind her, Kaylee turned around. It was Mal. "You wanna come here, Kaylee?"

"I can't leave her…"

"You wanna come here, Kaylee," Mal repeated, except this time it wasn't a question.

Kaylee got up and followed him down the stairs to the galley. Everyone else was already there. Simon looked rumpled and mussed from his recent sleep. Jayne was carrying two guns and cleaning another. Inara looked beautiful as usual. Zoë and Wash were sitting next to each other, his arm draped around her shoulders. Inara motioned to a seat next to her, and Kaylee took it gratefully.

"This is what we've learned," Mal said, leaning on the table. "Our passenger is a spy. He was recruited ten years go by the Starboard Force, which we know from the communications on his disks. His first and only assignment was to kill Falstaff Rizzly. While was goin' bout that, he was taken to a prison on Sihnon and had his memory… well, he calls it 'selective' memory loss."

"He was tortured," Simon said.

"Right you are, Doc. Pieces a' his memory were removed and he was dumped on Wanderlust. Durin' the time he was there, Rizzly found out where he was."

"Why didn't Rizzly just kill him?" Zoë asked.

Mal shrugged. "Guess he wanted to draw out the suspense," he remarked dryly. "Rizzly's been trackin' our spy all the years he's been on Wanderlust, just waitin' fer somebody t' pick him up…"

"So he'd have a target," Jayne muttered.

"Well, Rizzly's got a target now," Wash said. "He said there's no place in the verse we can set down."

"I aim to set down _somewhere_," Mal said. "I ain't stayin' in the air to be shot out; I ain't gonna lose my boat to this scarred monstrosity."

"What's the plan, sir?" Zoë asked, business as usual.

Mal was thoughtful for a moment. Before he could speak again, Kaylee asked, "Is Miles on our side or theirs?"

"Ours," Mal answered. "He's not a bad guy. He doesn't even remember who tasked him to kill Rizzly; he just remembers that he _was_. So here's what we're gonna do…" He looked over at Simon. "What's goin' on with the girl?"

Simon shook his head; he had no easy answers. "The drugs I gave her are wearing off. When she's fully awake she's going to be paranoid and psychotic again, capable of anything that we've seen and probably some we haven't."

"You gonna let her run wild t' slice us up?" Jayne demanded.

"No."

"But ya _are_ gonna drug her, right?"

"No." Simon held his hands up as though asking for peace, speaking hurriedly before anyone could question his decision. "I know you all think that's a rash and horrible decision, since we have all seen what she's capable of… but I have a limited supply of drugs, and she doesn't deserve to be drugged all the time. Maybe River can tell us some things we don't already know."

"Like what?" Jayne queried.

"She keeps talkin' bout his hands," Kaylee piped helpfully. "Is there somethin' wrong with his hands, Cap'n?"

Mal said, "No. Not that I can see, least."

"Maybe she's not talkin' bout his hands. Miles, I mean," Kaylee suggested.

"Rizzly has odd hands, if we're lookin' fer somebody with strange hands," Wash put in. "Scarred and whatnot."

"Is there a part of that man that _isn't_ scarred?" Inara asked wryly.

"Well," Wash began, "I've heard tell that his, _you_ know…"

"Here's the plan," Mal interrupted. "We're gonna put down somewhere out o' the way. We're gonna get us a stronghold. We're gonna figure out what exactly it is that Rizzly and his men want."

"What about Miles?" Kaylee asked.

"Miles… he can stay in his bunk fer all I care," Mal replied. "But I think he's gonna help us out s'much as he can."

"Hope he's a good shot," Jayne muttered. "Since we're gonna be cut into cutlets by the PRFO."

"Don't say that," Kaylee said.

"Just speakin' the truth," Jayne answered testily. "Ain't nobody that's ever challenged the PRFO and walked away from it."

"And once we figure out what we've got that Rizzly's men want, we're gonna dump it," Mal continued.

"What about River?" Simon asked.

"What about her?"

"What he means is, Crazy's gonna kill us all fore we can get anywhere's safe," Jayne said, trying to be helpful.

"Keep her locked up," Mal answered simply. "Can't have her runnin' bout, tryin' t' kill my crew."

Simon nodded solemnly.

"Okay, we're - …."

Before Mal could finish his sentence, a scream was heard throughout the galley. "_SIMON!_"

"River," Simon said, and he and Kaylee ran off.

"That shriekin' she keeps doin'? It's gettin' old," Jayne remarked.

"Jayne, you're talkin' again."

"I'd say that's gettin' a mite old," Zoë said with a mischievous grin.


	7. Such a Pretty Girl

Disclaimer's the same as always. For this chapter I recommend: Gotta Get Thru This - Daniel Bedingfield. Read on!

Miles was standing over River in the hold. She was looking up at him with fear and hatred in her eyes. "Stay away from me I'll kill you."

"Such a pretty girl. You wouldn't kill me, would you, pretty little one?" He gently stroked her hair.

"Stay away from my sister," Simon demanded, arriving in the locker just in time. "You hear me? Don't touch her."

Miles swung around to face the doctor and the mechanic, and they could see he was carrying his small – but probably perfectly effective – gun. "You were saying something?"

"Kaylee, run and get Mal," Simon whispered.

"You're not going anywhere," Miles said, pointing the gun at Kaylee. "Stay here, why don't you, and we'll have a conversation."

"Simon," River said, "don't put me to sleep."

"Why would I do that, mei-mei?" Simon asked. He couldn't see the logic in that; having River asleep was probably the _worst_ thing that could happen now.

"Just _don't_."

"I won't, I promise," Simon assured her.

"You tell me exactly what's been told to you by Falstaff Rizzly," Miles demanded, swinging back around to face River. "You tell me where he is."

"The name does not comprehend," River said, staring up at the man and his gun. "Wish I had a gun."

"Oh, honey, _you?_ With a _gun?"_ Kaylee said gently.

"She doesn't know anything," Simon interjected, trying to be helpful.

"Not your business anymore. He's coming to kill us and you'll never see it coming," River informed Miles.

"Shhh, River."

"Oh, no, keep talking, darling," Miles said with an eerie smile. He drew something out of his pocket, and knelt, his back to Kaylee and Simon. "I wouldn't try running off, even though you think I can't see you. I have, to quote an old but odd expression, eyes in the back of my head."

"What are you doing?" Simon asked worriedly, shifting from one foot to the other, trying to see what Miles was doing.

"You promised no more needles!" River shrieked suddenly. "No more needles! You can't just stick me like a prize pig and expect me to bleed for you!"

"What are you doing?" Simon demanded.

"She'll tell us all in due time."

"HELP!" Kaylee yelled. "CAP'N!"

"Oh, dear," Miles said sadly. "That was a bad move."

"Maybe fer _you_ it was," Kaylee said, as they heard footsteps start running towards them.

"_No more needles!"_ River screamed.

Simon rushed to Miles, and grabbed the older man's shoulder, trying to pull him away from River. "Bad idea, boy," Miles said. "You go about this badly, there's an embolism in this needle with her name on it."

River's eyes went wide. "Take him now before oh God oh God oh God they're coming and I'm _not dead I know I'm not!"_

"What is that?" Simon asked warily, watching Miles prepare a very large hypodermic needle with some sort of green drug.

"Oh, nothing to concern yourself with, Doc," Miles said, almost genially. "I was trained as a doctor before getting dumped on Wanderlust. I'll take very good care of your sister… though I'd expect her to be a mite crazier after I'm done. Not that you'll notice… she's off the deep end, as they say, huh?"

"_What are you doing?"_ Simon demanded.

Footsteps pounded on the walk and Mal and Jayne appeared. "What's he doin'?" Jayne asked.

"Hurtin' River! He's gonna hurt her!" Kaylee answered, panic in her voice.

"Oh, dear Captain. Would I hurt your most valuable asset, after you were so nice to grant me safe passage?"

"_No more needles!"_

"Won't be safe passage any more if you hurt her," Mal said. "The only thing you'll be seein' for the next part o' the journey'll be the hold."

"Let's not do anything hasty," Simon said slowly, watching as Miles brought the needle ever closer to River's arm.

"Do somethin' hasty? Ruttin' hell I'm doin' somethin' hasty!" Jayne said, drawing his gun.

"Jayne! No shooting!" Mal ordered, then, in a lower voice, "We can't hurt River."

"Heck, I'm not gonna hit Crazy! I'm gonna knock some sense into Mr. Super-Spy there!"

"I'd advise against that," Miles said. "Shooting, I mean. It'll only heap more trouble on your already-troubled heads."

"Please, Simon, no more needles," River begged, almost to the point of tears. "Tell him, no more."

"It's okay, mei-mei," Simon promised her, even though he could not see how it would ever be okay, not with some crazy spy about to inject her with a drug that would do who-knows-what.

"If you let me finish my operation, I'll let you go on your merry way," Miles said, still holding the needle poised above River's arm. "If you interrupt me and I mess this up, well, it'll be on your head when we're attacked by Falstaff Rizzly without warning."

"I'd say this guy remembered an awful lot of important _go-se_ very, very fast," Jayne said dryly.

Miles smiled. "Selective memory loss, they called it. They promised it would all come back someday… and today is that day."

"Don't hurt River," Kaylee pleaded. "Please? She's been through so much already, what's the need of troublin' her any more?"

Miles had turned to look at her, and without warning, River swung her arm in a bad parody of a punch, trying to get it to connect with the bad guy's head. Before anyone else could move, Miles had swung around, grabbed her moving arm, and stuck it with the needle. River screamed.

For a split second, nothing happened. Then Jayne, appearing to come to his senses, aimed his gun at Miles. Miles dropped the needle and scooped up his gun, pointing it at Jayne, who he apparently thought was his only threat.

Before anyone could shoot anyone, River let out another scream, followed by a gasp. Her body contracted, her back arching. Her head slammed against the wall behind her. Her hands began to move convulsively, then her legs, until her whole body was shaking.

"What did you _do?"_ Simon asked, infuriated.

"Shoot the gorram idiot!" Jayne yelled to Mal. Then he added, "I mean the spy, not Crazy, of course!"

River's back arched again and her head thumped the wall once more. The manacles swung with her moving arms, clanking and scraping the grating.

"Shoot him or I will!" Jayne said angrily, in disgust.

Simon grabbed River's arms and began undoing the locks holding her to the grate. "Kaylee, hold her legs!"

The mechanic knelt to do as the doctor asked. Zoë and Inara appeared in the doorway; Zoë's gun was drawn. She quick-glanced at Simon and Kaylee, wrestling with River, who was mid-seizure, and Jayne and Mal, who had their guns drawn and focused on Miles, who was pointing his own gun – small but probably perfectly effective – right back. "What's going on, sir?" she asked calmly.

"This maniac did somethin' t' Crazy," Jayne filled her in, even though he was not the "sir" she had been addressing.

"What did you do?" Mal asked. "I'll give you a chance to answer fer yerself."

Miles was still smiling his eerie, serial killer smile. "Captain, she'll be fine. Do you think I'd harm your most valuable asset?"

"My most valuable asset right now's this here gun," Mal answered. "Now, answer me. What did you do to her?"

River sucked in a deep breath, her first in several minutes. Her lips were turning blue, and Simon, looking at her hands, saw her nail-beds going dusky blue as well. Kaylee ducked as one of the girl's bare feet attempted to connect with her head, though she knew it was probably an accident; River was in no position to be kicking anybody with intent to kick. Simon's eyes had gone small and angry as he glared at Miles's back, but his voice was full of panic as he spoke to River. "Mei-mei, listen to me. Come on, come back to us. Mei-mei, can you hear me?"

"Shoot the ruttin' fool!" Jayne said ferociously. "I'm still referrin' to Mr. Bad-Spy himself, course."

With a shake of his head, still smiling, Miles said, "She'll be fine in a few minutes, and she'll tell me exactly what I need to know."

"I'll tell you what you need to know," Mal said. "I'm downright angry with you, stranger."

"_Shoot him!"_ Jayne yelled. "He is a ruttin' fool that don't deserve t' live much longer! Look what he did t' Crazy!"

"Violence isn't the answer," Miles said.

"Like hell it ain't!"

"River," Simon said, trying to hold down his panic, though it was obviously growing in an exponential way, "can you hear me? Come on, come on…"

"Cap'n," Kaylee said despairingly, her eyes wet with tears and looking at the captain.

"It'll be all right, Kaylee, don't you fret your pretty head," Inara said from the doorway. Miles turned to look at her, and when he did, Mal shot him in the knee.

"Okay, move!" Mal ordered, his gun still trained on the spy, who had crumpled into a ball, clutching his knee, which was now sporting a lovely bullet hole. Mal stepped forward carefully, until he could pluck the gun from the spy's limp hands. "Jayne, take River to the infirmary."

The thug nodded and scooped up the girl, who appeared to weigh less than a feather in his large arms. He ducked as her spastic arms nearly clocked him in the head, and struggled all the way out of the storage locker, her body convulsing and her back arching in his arms. Simon ran out after him.

"Zoë, let's escort our passenger to somewhere… a mite more comfortable, whaddya say?" Mal suggested. "Kaylee, will you and Inara please clean up the mess Mr. Cromwell made here?"

"Excellent suggestion, sir," Zoë said with a trace of an ironic smile. She and Mal hoisted Miles off the grating and dragged him forcefully back to his bunk, where Mal tied him against the bunk.

"What about my knee?" Miles demanded angrily, but as though he was holding back a floodgate of tears.

"What about it?" Mal asked.

"It _is_ bleedin' all over the place, sir," Zoë said.

"You _shot_ it, you _xiong-meng de kuang-ren_!"

"Watch yer mouth or yer gettin' off fore we get t' Spake's Fault. And you don't want none o' _that_ kinda trouble."

"I need to hear what she's going to say!" the spy said angrily. "If I can't hear what she's going to say –…"

"Then what? You wasted your drug fer nothin'?" Mal asked, a tinge of a smile on his face. "Sorry t' say, _Mr._ Cromwell, that I believe you've wasted that drug. Only a few people are gonna hear what River Tam has to say… and I don't believe yer on the guest list. Zoë, pat im down, make sure he doesn't have any more needles stuck in those oh-so-fashionable pants o' his."

"Yes, sir," Zoë said, although she looked as though she'd rather jump into a pit of scorpions. She quickly rummaged through the spy's pockets and took off his shoes, the better to make sure he wasn't concealing anything. She found only a few coins and a scrap of paper. "Nothing dangerous, sir."

"Well, then, I'd say we should leave Mr. Cromwell here to bleed and think a bit, whaddya say?" Mal said. "It's rather poetic, ain't it, bleedin' and thinkin'. I'd say he's got some time do a fair bit of both."

"I'd say that's a perfectly legitimate solution, sir," Zoë said, smiling at him.

"Good. Mayhap when we come back, he'll be a bit more obligin' t' talk t' us. Whaddya think, Mr. Cromwell? Is that the truth?"

"Yes, yes, of course," Miles gasped. "Anything you want."

"Wish we'd done this fore he went off 'n hurt River," Zoë said quietly as they were leaving.

"What, shot him? That was a long time comin'," Mal admitted. "First time I saw his sorry face, I knew he'd be shot on my ship one way or nother."

"What was all that _go-se_ about him being on our side?" Zoë questioned as they moved away from the bunk and towards the infirmary. "Who's the bigger threat here, the spy or Rizzly?"

"Rizzly, seein' as I haven't shot him yet." Mal holstered his gun. "Let's see what the good doctor's been able to do."

Translations: _go-se_: garbage

_xiong-meng de kuang-ren: _violent lunatic


	8. They're a Right Magical Bunch

You may want to turn on: "The World is Black" - Good Charlotte. Oh, yeah, and I don't own these guys.

"River?"

She could hear him but not see him. That was odd. She could always see him. Here it was all dark, and cold. She shivered. She wished she had her boots. Simon was always telling her to wear her boots and for the first time she actually agreed.

"River? River, open your eyes if you can hear me. Come on, mei-mei, I know you're in there."

She opened her mouth and said the first thing that popped into her brain. "Didn't used to be so dark. Where's the bright-light? Kaylee, where'd the bright-light go?"

Kaylee's voice filtered into the darkness. "I can go run get the bright-light if ya think it'll help…"

"She don't need no bright-light," Jayne's voice said gruffly. "She'll be round in a minute, ain't no cause t' waste the bright-light."

"River, open your eyes," Simon said again.

"Can't. Too dark."

"River, _open your eyes_," Simon said, and he sounded a little angry this time, so she did as he asked.

"Hey, sweetie," Kaylee said from somewhere above her head.

"I went away," River said to Simon, who was standing next to her, holding her hand. "I told you I was going away."

"You didn't go nowhere," Jayne said abruptly. "We're still all here on _Serenity_."

"Finest ship in the verse!" Kaylee piped happily.

"Finest ship in the verse," River repeated softly, and then said, "Cap'n's coming."

They all turned to the door; Mal entered, followed closely by Zoë. "How's the patient?"

"She's fine now," Simon said. "She'll be better in a few hours."

"Good." Mal looked at the girl, lying there so still and pale and, for the first time in a long time, calm. There was a tube running into the vein at the crook of her elbow and some long scratches on her arms but the long wound on her cheek from the fight earlier was looking better already.

"What about the spy?" Jayne asked.

"Oh, he's all set fer a few hours," Mal answered. "Then I s'pose we'll haveta get the bullet outa him and interrogate him gain."

"Sounds like a plan t' me," Jayne said.

"Is he asking about River?" Simon asked a bit worriedly.

Zoë nodded. "He's very interested in what she was going to say."

"We wrote it down," Kaylee said, handing Zoë a tablet.

Zoë passed the tablet to Mal, who looked down at it in earnest confusion. The writing was all Kaylee's neat, precise printing, but the words made no sense. He read it out loud to those gathered there.

_He's gonna take me. Big ship, big ship, we're all riding on the big ship. Where'd he go? It's all green. Green, green, green. Simon, are you singing? He can hear you, ya know. And Simon doesn't sing neither. Here's what he's singing: In the Highways. Hear it? We're in the highways now, never gonna catch us. I hear you, Simon. Singing. You never sang before. We're in real trouble now. Green, green, green. He's coming he's coming faster, faster, I'm not dead yet! They're coming! Gonna catch us unawares like Moses on the mountain. Light me on fire, I'm ready for you. He's coming he's coming he's coming here he comes. BAM!_

"What in the ruttin' hell's this?" Mal asked confusedly, looking up from the tablet.

Kaylee shook her head. "It's just what she said, Cap'n."

"She's runnin' fer Crazy Girl o' the Year Award," Jayne muttered. "Heck, make that Crazy Girl o' the Gorram _Verse_."

"What do you think it means, sir?" Zoë asked.

For the first time in his life, Mal had neither the right answer nor a witty retort, so he settled for saying nothing.

"'In the Highways,' that's a song," Kaylee said. "My granddad used t' sing it t' me."

"Do you think the song means anything?" Zoë asked. "I can get Wash to look it up for us."

"Might as well do that," Mal agreed. "It's a small lead, but the best we've got."

"I said that?" River asked, frowning up at Simon, who nodded in reply.

"_In the highways, in the hedges, in the highways, in the hedges, in the highways, in the hedges, I'll be somewhere a-workin' for my Lord," _Kaylee sang. "_If He calls me I will answer, if He calls he I will answer, if He calls me, I will answer, I'll be somewhere a-workin' for my Lord."_

"That's the words?" Mal asked, and upon Kaylee's nod, commented, "Religious trash, all o' it."

"What's a hedge?" Jayne asked.

"Hedge: a row of closely planted shrubs or low-growing trees forming a fence or boundary," River recited obediently.

"What else makes sense, sir?" Zoë asked.

"Maybe singin' is a metaphor," Kaylee suggested, bright-eyed.

"A metaphor fer _what?"_ Mal asked.

"Well, ya see, that's as far as I'd gotten," Kaylee replied, a little disappointed.

"Singing," Simon said slowly. "May I see that?"

Zoë wordlessly handed him the tablet.

"When we were little," Simon began, "River always used to play these games with me. We'd have to be quiet when our parents were hosting parties, so she'd always tell me to sing if she had to do something that was going to make a lot of noise. Of course, my singing drew _more_ attention instead of less, and we were usually caught." He set down the tablet. "What are you going to do?"

River looked up at him, wide-eyed. "Me?"

"She keeps sayin' she's not dead yet," Kaylee interjected. "Whaddya think that means?"

"Means she ain't dead yet!" Jayne said, as if this was obvious. "Sometimes ya gotta just… assert that."

River sat up. "Simon?"

"Yes?"

"I can hear them." She swung her legs off the bed and moved to jump down. Simon caught her by the shoulders. "I have to go hear them."

"You're not going anywhere, mei-mei," Simon said.

"I have to go hear them."

Simon looked at Mal, who shrugged, then said, "I think it'd be best to let her go… hear whatever she needs t' hear rather than gettin' us all in a fight with her. Last thing she needs right now's a fight. We've all seen her fight, have we not?"

Everyone else in the infirmary besides River nodded hurriedly.

"Here, Kaylee, unhook that," Simon said, gesturing to the plastic bag of liquid connected to the tube in River's arm. The mechanic gently unhooked it from the pole holding it, and he took it from her, holding it above River's head as River stepped carefully out of the infirmary, looking first left then right. When she had finished looking in both directions, she led the group up to the bridge, where Wash was piloting and talking to his dinosaurs.

"Wash, where are we headed?" Mal asked.

"Spake's Fault, less I hear different," the pilot replied, jumping a little at their entrance.

"What's here, sweetie?" Kaylee asked River.

"Don't you hear it?" River asked, her face a map of confusion. "The little girls?"

"Ain't no girls here," Jayne said with a scoff. "That's not t' say that I wouldn't mind havin' me some, if anybody's in the mood…"

"The little girls are singing now," River said with certainty. "Hear them?"

"Come on, River," Simon said with a sigh. "Let's go back to…"

"_I_ hear them," River said to an invisible friend. "It's very green, I can tell you that."

"Wash, are there any hedges on Spake's Fault?" Mal asked the pilot.

"Hedges?" Wash asked.

"Hedge: a row of closely planted shrubs or low-growing trees forming a fence or boundary," River recited again.

"Oh, those. Uh… let's see." Wash brought up a map of Spake's Fault. "D'ya see any hedges?"

They all peered at the map, except for River, who was looking at the ceiling. No one could see any hedges, or anything that resembled a hedge, or anything with the word "hedge" in its title. "A false lead, you think, sir?" Zoë asked.

"Not completely," Wash said suddenly, a smile growing. "Leader of Spake's Fault, anyone remember her?"

"Oh, right, the chick with the crazy ponies!" Jayne said. "What'shername?"

"Abeni _Hedge_," Wash said with a great big smile on his face. "I think that's her name, anyways."

"Right you are, sweetie," Zoë said. "I remember her. She leases space ponies."

"Space ponies?" Simon asked, confused.

"Oh, they're a right magical bunch," Mal assured him.

"They speak!" Kaylee said delightedly. "And they have x-ray vision."

"What in the ruttin' hell'd you remember _that_ fer?" Jayne questioned.

"I like space ponies!" Kaylee said indignantly. "They's a pretty sort. And Abeni's a right nice lady as well. Most as nice as Nara."

"I'll take that as a compliment," Inara said with a motherly sort of grin at Kaylee.

"Y' think she's waitin' fer us, Mal?" Jayne asked.

Mal shook his head. "We haven't heard from Abeni in years. She ain't had a job fer us, so we ain't contacted her."

"But now we're bound straight for her," Wash said. "Less of course we're turnin' round."

"Way I see it, Spake's Fault's a right good place t' have a standoff with Falstaff Rizzly."

"Is that the plan now, sir?" Zoë asked, a little worriedly. "A standoff with the PRFO?"

"We have somethin' they want. Well, two somethin's."

"And River," Simon added.

"And River," Mal conceded. "As I see it, Spake's Fault's out o' the way nuff so's no other trouble'll be there. We get out somewhere's in the desert, get ourselves some o' them space ponies, and…"

"And what, Captain?" Zoë questioned. "Send the space ponies to fight for us?"

"That's a good plan!" Wash said with a laugh. "You always come up with the best plans, sweetie."

"And we hold 'em off. Or offer 'em a trade. They want Miles and somethin' in the cargo hold, we let 'em have it and we're gone."

"I went away!" River said, a bit fuzzily, to Simon.

"But you came back," Simon reminded her.

"I'm going away again," she said, and collapsed on the floor.

"Well, ruttin' hell!" Jayne exclaimed, and crouched to pick her up. "Gorram it, girl, yer gonna get yerself killed! Ain't no reason t' be outa bed after what you just went through." To Simon, he said, "I'll take her t' bed."

"Thank you," Simon said, and meant it.

"Wash, take us to Spake's Fault and set us down somewhere outa the way, but close enough t' the town proper so's we can talk t' Abeni Hedge," Mal requested.

"Aye, aye, Cap'n," Wash said with a bright grin.

"Kaylee, you check 'n make sure everythin's shiny in the engine room," Mal continued. "Zoë, you… can stay here with Wash."

"Thank you kindly, sir," Zoë said with a wry smile. "You're not usually known for your soft-heartedness."

"Then I must be changin'."


	9. Better Be in His Nutter Head

One of these things stayed the same: the disclaimer or the soundtrack. Which one? Well, turn on: "Catch My Disease" - Ben Lee and ponder it for awhile... :)

"Kaylee, get me the bright-light!"

"What? Somethin' wrong, Simon?"

"River," he replied, and that was all the hurry she needed.

"Gorram girl's fixin' t' die on us!" Jayne yelled down the corridor. "Mal, you's better get in here fore she goes!"

"She isn't going to die," Simon said, attempting to sound confident even though he wasn't really sure what was going to happen. He checked the monitor; her heart rate was rapid even though she had stopped breathing again. Her lips had gone blue, as had her nail-beds. Her back arched, once, twice, and her head slammed into the bed. "Come on, mei-mei, don't do this again."

Mal appeared in the doorway. "Ruttin' hell, what's goin' on?"

"She's having another seizure," Simon explained as Kaylee rushed in with the bright-light. "Shine it on her face, see if she opens her eyes."

Kaylee did so. "River? River, sweetie?"

"How far are we from Spake's Fault?" Jayne demanded of the captain.

"Maybe three hours. But they ain't got medical facilities there, nothin' that could help her."

"_She's not dying_!" Simon said exasperatedly. "I just… I wish I knew what was in that drug Miles gave her."

River gasped a breath and tried to say something. "Shh, shh, sweetie," Kaylee said. "Don't talk." Then she looked up at the crew. "Or are we letting her talk?"

"She can sing fer all I care," Jayne replied, attempting to say so off-handedly but failing somehow.

"River, mei-mei, listen to me. Come on, I know you're in there. It's Simon. Come on back, you hear me?"

Her back arched again and her feet slapped the bed hard, her arms flailing. She gasped again. Simon pursed his lips and grabbed a needle off the counter next to him, filled it with the remaining anti-convulsant he had in stock and injected it into the line still running into her arm.

"That'll do it, Doc?" Mal asked worriedly.

"As long as she keeps breathing," Simon said, not taking his eyes off his sister's face. "Kaylee, keep up the light. River, open your eyes, you hear me?"

Kaylee flashed the bright-light across River's face again, her own face tight with worry.

"River, open your eyes," Simon said, louder. "River, listen to me."

One more gasp, then her breathing became regular, if fast. When she was on the verge of hyperventilating, she gasped once more and her head fell back, slack.

"River, listen to me, _open your eyes_. Shine the light, Kaylee."

"I went away again," River said groggily, squinting in the glare of the bright-light.

"Damn straight you did," Jayne said.

"But we're all still here," Simon said. "Here, swallow this for me." She opened her mouth obediently and he fed her a spoonful of sticky orange glucose syrup, designed to prevent all sorts of evils. It must have not tasted very good, for River made a face and tried to spit it out. He had no idea whether or not it would prevent another seizure, but he figured it was his best plan. His heart was pounding, he guessed, almost as fast as River's. She had been close to the edge, but… no. He wouldn't even think of it. It was over; he had played the hero again, fought death and won. "Swallow that, River. Jayne, will you take her to her bunk? Make sure this stays connected to her arm, please."

"What're ya doin', Doc?" Mal asked.

"Bring in the spy. It's time I do some interrogating of my own."

"Fer some reason I like th' sound o' that," Jayne said as he lifted River off the bed, gently carrying her and her IV line. "Come on, Crazy. Yer goin' t' bed."

"I'll get Mr. Cromwell," Mal said, following Jayne out of the infirmary.

"Whaddya gonna do, Simon?" Kaylee wondered as she switched off the bright-light.

"Honestly?" Simon asked as he moved around, trying to clean up the mess he had made taking care of River. "I don't really know. I just want to find out what this guy's… master plan is, I suppose."

She nodded. "Sounds good t' me. You need this anymore?" she questioned, gesturing to the bright-light.

"Keep it charged, just in case River goes off again," he replied. "If you would."

"Will do, Doc." She gave him a radiant smile, grabbing the bright-light, and left.

Mal reappeared in the doorway, supporting the spy. "Yer patient, Doc," he said, only a mite sarcastically.

"Oh, God!" the spy was yelling. "You shot me!"

"Is he still talkin' bout that?" Mal asked Simon, as though the spy was deaf. "Seems he'd have figured out that I did it fer all the right reasons."

"Don't worry, Mr. Cromwell," Simon said as politely as he could muster. "I'll take fine care of you."

Mal and Simon hefted the passenger up onto the bed, where just moments before, Simon's sister had been fighting for her life. The spy leaned back, breathing heavily. "Now, Mr. Cromwell," Simon said, trying to keep his voice level and polite, "I'm going to have to anesthetize you."

"Fine, fine, do whatever you need to do!"

"I'll leave you two alone," Mal said. "I'll be just outside if ya need anythin', Doc. You just holler and I'm here."

"Thank you, Captain," Simon said. Mal left, and Simon saw him through the windows take up residence at a chair right outside. For some reason, Simon felt better knowing that Mal – and his guns – were at an easily accessible distance.

"What are you going to do first, Doctor?" Miles asked in a very soft voice.

Simon looked back at the spy, startled. "Well… uh… first I thought I'd…"

"Just admit it, Doctor. You're going to torture me until I give you what I want."

"You must have misunderstood," Simon said a bit shakily. It was as though the spy was reading his mind! "I'm a doctor, I heal, not torture. If anybody's going to torture you, it'll be the Captain out there." His hands moved to a bottle of anesthetic and he drew a needle-full. "I just… I'd like to ask you a few questions."

"Ask away," the spy said, waving his hand like a ruler bestowing mercy on his subjects.

"What was the drug you gave my sister?"

"I can't tell you that."

Simon set the needle down and picked up a pair of scissors, which he used to cut open the spy's pants. "Why not?"

Miles gasped in pain. "I just… I can't."

"Who gave it to you? Nobody on Wanderlust has that kind of drug." Simon was guessing, as he didn't know what the drug was.

"How do you know?" Miles demanded, his eyes wide with pain. "I could have my sources. Spies usually do."

"You didn't remember you were a spy until the Captain interrogated you," Simon shot back. "Where did you get the drug? Who gave it to you?"

"Why're you so interested, Doctor?" Miles questioned. "It's not like she's going to survive the night anyway."

Simon backed up as though he'd been shoved. There were a score of drugs he know could induce seizures in "normal" people. The list of drugs could reach into the hundreds with River, as he had no idea what would set her off. Only a few of them were green. Only a few of them could kill. "She'll survive. River's a survivor," he attempted to assure Miles, though it sounded to his ears as though he was reassuring himself, rather pathetically in fact.

Miles smiled, a bit sadly. "There are some things that people just… _can't_ survive. Even your genius psychic sister."

"You better tell me what you did to her, or _you_ won't be surviving."

"I've already served my purpose, Doctor, I am not afraid of death. And you are not a very good negotiator."

"Your purpose?" Simon asked, bringing a pair of tweezers closer to the bullet hole in the spy's knobby knee. "What was that, exactly? Killing River?"

"Dear Doctor, I am only a pawn in a much greater game of chess." Miles's eyes were closed in pain. "Are you going to take that bullet out without anesthetic?"

"It wasn't my first plan."

"Then I suppose I should tell you something, huh, in reward for using drugs? That's a sick little trade, Doctor."

"That'd be nice, instead of you wasting my time and bleeding all over my infirmary." Simon was surprised at how harsh his words sounded.

Again with the smile, except this time it was a little more genuine. "I was born…"

"I really don't care where you were born," Simon informed him.

"My dear Doctor," Miles said, "I believe I am still the one in control."

"Why? Do you have an antidote for the drug you gave to River?"

"I might," the spy said offhandedly.

Simon sighed. He disliked this game of cat-and-mouse but he knew that he would have to play by the spy's rules, especially if he was telling the truth. "Fine. Go ahead."

The spy smiled once more, grateful that Simon was going to play along. "I was born on Ariel, to a wealthy family. It was always expected that I would do great things."

Simon tried not to shudder; it was as though the spy was recounting Simon's history instead of his own. Hopefully the next few sentences would reveal the man's deep-seated psychosis, which would differ from Simon's life.

"But instead I decided to become a spy. Well, not a spy exactly, that term is _so_ crass and outdated. I was going to serve! But, sadly for me, my dear Doctor, I was denied access to any of the Alliance's armies. So I went underground. I joined up with the Starboard Force."

"Spies," Simon said in disgust.

"I told you I dislike that term," Miles said with a tense but polite smile. "I was a servant of my people."

"But you only had one assignment," Simon reminded him. "Which, so far, you've failed at."

"Ah, my dear Doctor, you only know what you have seen on those disks. Yes, I know you took them. Are you all really innocent enough to believe that a spy – if you choose to call a man that – would save his full assignment on a disk where it could be discovered and used against him?"

"I suppose not," Simon admitted. "So what was your full assignment?"

Miles shook his head; it was clear the pain was getting to him. "You think I'm stupid enough to reveal that? I'll tell you and you'll just run off and spill it all to your beloved captain."

"Why are you here?" Simon demanded.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you, Doctor." Miles closed his eyes.

"Hey, come on!" Simon said, sticking the tweezers into the bullet hole. "You have to tell me what you did to River!"

"Doc!" somebody was yelling from down the corridor. "Doc, you'd better get in here!"

Simon took a minute to lock a pair of cuffs around the spy's wrist and the bed. He had no intent of letting the man go to wreak further havoc on _Serenity_ and her crew. The man fell silent and watched as Simon collected a few supplies hurriedly, his eyes large and pain-filled.

"If my sister dies, Mr. Cromwell," Simon swore as he was hurrying out of the room, "you are going to die with her."

"Kaylee, get the gorram bright-light!" Mal yelled the order down the hall. "Jayne, we need that orange syrup stuff and a spoon!"

"Comin' right up, Cap'n!" Kaylee called back, running for the engine room where she'd stashed the bright-light.

"I'm on it!" Jayne shouted in return, making for the infirmary. He blew in, not even noticing the spy, who was still cuffed to the bed, unconscious now from pain. "Good thing yer out," Jayne muttered as he was leaving, glucose syrup in hand, "otherwise I'd shoot ya."

Simon was standing over River as Jayne reentered the bunk. Kaylee had arrived lugging the bright-light, which she had switched on. Mal was standing at the door, looking nervous, his hand on his gun as though that would save them yet again. "Okay, Jayne," Simon said, beginning to move into crisis mode, "I need you to give her some of that syrup."

"How much?" Jayne asked, the bottle of orange syrup looking very tiny indeed in his large hand.

"A spoonful or more. Kaylee…"

"I know. Light duty." The mechanic obediently switched on the bright-light and flashed it across the girl's face, which was contorted in the throes of the seizure. "River? Sweetie?"

"How long has she been like this?" Simon asked Jayne.

"Jest since I called fer ya." It was the first time Simon could remember Jayne looking scared. Reavers didn't faze the man that much, but throw him in a room with a seizing mentally traumatized psychic genius and watch how quickly his face grew pale. Jayne noticed Simon watching him and quickly busied himself getting the cap off the bottle of orange syrup, which he found to be a difficult task.

"What did he tell ya?" Mal questioned.

"Nothing, except some boring _go-se_ about his lousy life and his only assignment. And he dislikes the word 'spy,'" Simon replied a bit sarcastically. "I really wish we had some more…"

"Some more what?" Mal demanded before the doctor could finish his sentence. "We can try t' get ya some stuff on Spake's Fault."

"Mal, there ain't nothin' there," Jayne said, having successfully removed the cap from the orange syrup. "They ain't got medical facilities t' speak of. They got maybe one doctor… ain't sayin' he's good or nothin'…"

"Are you sure that was the last bottle?" Kaylee asked, ever the optimist.

"I'll go check," Mal offered. "What did it look like?"

"It was small and glass and had a blue label on it," Simon answered, trying to take River's pulse without being smacked in the head with her flailing arms. Mal darted out.

"Is she breathing, Doc?" Kaylee asked, flashing the bright-light at him accidentally.

"Hey!" Simon yelled, a little louder and a little more angrily than he'd expected.

"Sorry!" The bright-light was quickly removed from his vision and refocused on River, whose spasms were slowing, becoming a little less frequent.

"Yes, she is. But maybe not much longer. Especially if she chokes on that syrup." Simon was rapidly reconsidering his first decision.

"Hey now!" Jayne exclaimed. "I'm just doin' what you told me t' do."

"I know," Simon said faintly. He was growing more and more panicked by the minute, minutes River obviously did not have. "Just… give it to her. It looks like she's all done… seizing. See if she'll swallow."

Jayne tipped the spoon into the pale girl's mouth and a bit of the sticky syrup disappeared. River gagged. "Simon," she said, or at least that was what it sounded like she attempted to say. Then she swallowed and her head jerked back.

"Come on, mei-mei. Don't do this to me," Simon said, his voice falling to a whisper. "Don't die on me. Not now. Not after everything we've…"

Mal ran back in, clutching a very small glass vial in his very large hands. "This it, Doc?"

Simon breathed a sigh of relief as he recognized the label written in its precise Chinese. "Yes, yes!" he exclaimed, trying not to grab the vial from Mal.

"Brought ya a needle," Mal continued, and handed it to him.

Simon filled the needle. "River, listen to me. I know I promised no more needles…"

She choked out something garbled by the orange syrup that Jayne had tried to put in her mouth.

"…but I think this time you'll agree that you need this one." He stuck it in her arm and her eyes closed, some of the panic and fight going from her face.

They all were holding their communal breath. Jayne, looking oddly feminine with the spoon and bottle, was trying not to bite his lips. Kaylee flashed the bright-light again. "Sweetie? River?"

River said something garbled again and orange syrup ran out of her mouth and over her lips. Simon grabbed for a cloth and wiped the syrup away. "What was that?" he asked her.

Her eyes opened and they were wild. "I have to get up!" she said, her voice almost a yell.

"No," Jayne said before any of them could speak, and moved to hold her shoulders down. "Yer not goin' anywhere, you gorram crazy." Strangely enough, his voice held no animosity as he struggled against the pale girl, who fought against his strong hands.

"Doc, a sedative perhaps?" Mal suggested.

"I have to get up! Listen to me! _They're coming!"_

"Attention passengers," Wash's voice said over the intercom. "We are heading for atmo and should be at the lovely paradise of Spake's Fault within a half hour."

"_They're coming! _They're going to want me! I have to hide!"

"Nobody's coming fer you," Jayne said.

Simon stuck the needle into her arm and had almost finished pushing the plunger when Zoë called out from down the corridor, "Sir! Trouble, ten o'clock!" and a gunshot rang out.

"For God's sake, _what now?"_ Mal demanded irritably.

River took the opportunity of gunshots to swing her free arm at Simon and knock the needle from her arm. "Hey!" Simon yelled, grabbing her chin, ignoring the sticky syrup which was all over her face. "You do that again and there's an embolism in there for you!"

Her eyes went wide with shock. He realized quickly that his words had been full of too much anger, and they had sounded strangely like the spy's words from earlier. Jayne was even looking at him oddly. "Sorry," he whispered. "I just…"

"She knows. She forgives you," River assured him. To Jayne she said, "You can let go."

"Like hell I can," Jayne said.

Mal shouted into the corridor. "Zoë, that better have been you shootin'! Our spy better have himself another shiny bullet hole!"

"Oh, he does, sir," Zoë assured him.

"Better be in his nutter head," Jayne muttered.

"No, not quite," Zoë said.

"We're fixed t' set down in Spake's Fault within ten minutes," Wash's voice, still perky because he had no idea of the trouble occurring in the ship, informed them all over the intercom.

"What's going on?" They all heard Inara's voice in the corridor, behind Zoë. "What's our passenger doing bleeding all over the grate again?"

"Where'd you shoot him?" Jayne asked.

"Was aimin' fer his head, sir," Zoë said, "but missed and got his arm. I'll clean it up this time," she reassured Inara.

"His ruttin' _arm?"_

"It'll slow him down a bit, specially if Doc doesn't have time t' treat him," Zoë informed him. "Do you?"

Simon looked down at River, still in shock from his angry speech. "Yes, I can treat him now. River's all right."

"Cept fer still bein' crazy," Jayne said very softly.

"I can hear you," River said a bit fuzzily, though with a smile. "Your mouth can speak quietly but is still very large."

Simon closed his eyes. He heard Kaylee switch off the bright-light. "Doc?" her quiet, kind voice said. "You all right?"

"I will be," he answered, his eyes still closed. "I just… he said she was going to die."

"River? Die? _Jian ta-de gui_, Doc," she said. He opened his eyes and found she was smiling at him. "She's a fighter, _dong ma?_ And fighters are made to live through… anythin'. Heck, if she survived Reavers, there ain't much else can harm her."

This time, he was the one kissing her.


	10. Meeting and Drinking

Joss owns them, except for Abeni Hedge, who is totally mine (and based on my friend Val). You may want to listen to "I've Been Everywhere" by Johnny Cash OR "Milkshake" by Kelis. Both would be appropriate for this chapter. Read on, and please review!

They landed on Spake's Fault. Mal and Jayne carried the spy out on a stretcher. Simon had removed both bullets and tidied up both wounds as best he could, although he had not wasted any anesthetic in the process. The spy was swearing a blue streak as they set him on the ground outside the ship.

Inara had stayed behind to watch River, who had been restrained to her bunk. The Companion had strict orders to call the rest of the crew immediately if anything went wrong. They hadn't had to give her suggestions as to what "wrong" would consist of.

"Where's Abeni?" Wash asked as they descended from the ship. "Don't seem to be nobody around."

"Did you wave her we was comin'?" Jayne questioned.

"Tried to, my signal was out," the pilot replied.

"Then she don't know we's comin'," Jayne informed him.

"Best be on our best behavior then," Mal said. "Let's go."

They carried Miles to Abeni's trade post, a building a bit nicer than a shack with a rusty sign out front: "SPACE PONIES FOR LEASE! REASONABLE RATES!" Kaylee grinned up at the sign. "I love space ponies," she told Simon.

"Is that Malcolm Reynolds my eyes see fer me?" a voice demanded from inside the open door.

"Yes, it is," Mal said sincerely, smiling.

A woman came out from the trade post. She was younger than Simon had expected, and very blond. "Whaddya got this time, Mal?"

"Spy," Mal answered. "He's had a bit o' a fight with the PRFO, and we're lookin' t' dump him 'fore they get t' us."

"Ah," Abeni said with a knowing smile. "This wouldn't be Miles Cromwell, would it?"

"How did you know?" Zoë asked.

"Got a wave few minutes ago," Abeni replied. "PRFO's lookin' fer a place t' set down so's they can kill him."

"Well, we almost did," Jayne said. "Cap'n wouldn't let us finish the job."

"Somethin' tells me the PRFO are gonna want him alive," Mal said, and Abeni nodded, then asked, "What's yer plan, Mal?"

Mal shrugged. "Ain't got one as o' yet. You got any ideas?"

"I'm thinkin' yer gonna need some ponies fer this one," Abeni replied, grinning bigger. "I'll offer m' own prize steed fer ya, plus some o' his best friends."

"Will we get t' ride them?" Kaylee asked excitedly.

"Come with me. We'll hook ya up."

"River?" Inara opened the door to the bunk and found the Reader in the same position she'd been in previously, sitting against the wall of the bunk, her arms chained to the handles on the wall behind her, her legs tucked under her. Her eyes were awake and bright, no longer wild, even though orange syrup was still smeared all over her face. "I brought you something."

"Presents. Gifts. Shiny."

"Not exactly a present, but I suppose you could say it was shiny," Inara said with a smile. "Do you like chocolate?"

River looked at her, puzzled. Inara showed her the smooth, round cup she was carrying, full of steaming chocolate from Inara's personal stash of exotic treasures. She usually only served it to very, _very_ important customers, but for some reason she had felt compelled to give it to the girl. Simon had left her a small tube of powder, telling her, "Put this in a drink and make sure she drinks all of it. Then she'll sleep for you and she won't be apt to go wild." Inara was sure the boy had meant cider or even the watery powdered milk they drank every day, but she had felt that after all they'd been through that day, River deserved a treat.

"Chocolate," River said, as though remembering something. "Fermented, roasted, shelled, and ground cacao seeds, often combined with a sweetener or flavoring agent."

"Right," Inara said. "This is from Osiris. Maybe you had some when you were there. A long time ago?" she suggested. She set down the cup of chocolate on the table and retrieved a wet washcloth she'd left there. "I'm going to wash off your face, all right? You won't feel so sticky then."

"Sticky," River agreed, and moved her hands to touch her face, forgetting she was restrained.

"I'll do it," Inara told her, and tenderly washed the girl's face, carefully avoiding the long cut from the fight earlier. River closed her eyes. When Inara was done, she took the cup of chocolate from the table. "Are you ready?"

"Presents," River repeated. "Shiny."

Inara gently put the cup to the girl's lips and tipped some of the hot chocolate into her mouth, stopping when River didn't swallow. "You have to drink it. Swallow so it won't spill and make a mess."

"Hot," River mumbled around the chocolate. "Mama."

"Oh," Inara said, taken aback.

River swallowed and looked at Inara confusedly, as though seeing the Companion for the first time. "You don't belong here," she said. "Why are you here? Where's Simon?"

"He went out with the captain," Inara replied. "He'll be back in a little while."

"Simon pours the teapot," River continued. "The big blue one with the handle that we broke once. Mama put it back together with sticky. It was always her favorite. Simon pours the teapot and he serves the cups. Who are you?"

"I'm Inara, River," Inara answered. "Remember? We're on _Serenity_."

"Finest ship in the verse."

"So they say." Inara put the cup to the girl's lips again. "Would you like some more?"

This time River didn't fight and swallowed the rest of the chocolate. When she was done, just as Simon had promised, she was fast asleep. Inara knew she should go back to the common area and clean up, but for some reason she didn't; she sat on the chair across from the bunk and watched the girl sleep. The cup in her hand was still warm, though empty, and she wrapped her hand around it, hoping it would give her strength. She didn't want to give a name to the emotion she felt, but she could almost _feel_ danger crackling in the air like electricity.


	11. The Standoff That Almost Wasn't

Yeah, I bet you remember the disclaimer. Soundtrack: "Gold Digger" - Kayne West feat. Jamie Foxx.

"Now, this un here's CoosCoos," Abeni said, bringing the crew to the first stall in the stable. "CoosCoos, m'boy, you ready for some action?"

"Sure thing!" the space pony agreed. "What kinda action we talkin', Mistress?"

"Well, m'boy," Abeni informed him, "it'll be a bit o' a standoff. You ready fer that?"

"I'm fine with standoffs," the pony responded, "but you better ask the rest o' the group a'fore you go promisin' us away."

"Kaylee, lead CoosCoos out," Abeni requested. "I'll show the rest o' ya the rest o' the group."

In short order, each member of the crew had a space pony, a walking, talking, bullet-dodging, life-saving pony. Kaylee was on Abeni's favorite, CoosCoos. Mal was given a brown pony called Nancy. Zoë rode on a palomino called Red Heart. Wash was given White Swan, who was actually a black pony with nary a spot of white on him. For Jayne, Abeni had to bring out the biggest of her space ponies, a golden steed called Custard Pot. And for Simon, who had never been on a pony (or a space pony) before, Abeni brought her most trusted and gentle mare, Lamb's Eye.

"Uh… how do you get on?" Simon asked confusedly after the rest of the crew was mounted and ready to head for the point Mal had chosen for the standoff.

The rest of the crew laughed, but Abeni merely said, "Step tall in the stirrups, m'boy, and swing yer leg over!"

Simon did as she instructed, and Lamb's Eye said, "Hello, sweetheart." It was the first time anyone other than Kaylee or his parents had addressed Simon as "sweetheart," and he wasn't sure what to make of it, especially because it was from a pony. A talking pony.

"Let's head out," Mal said, once Abeni had hitched a wagon to Nancy so they could pull Miles along and the spy had been loaded. "Standoff point's bit outside the town."

"Good luck!" Abeni called as they were riding out.

"What's the plan, sir?" Zoë asked, riding alongside Mal.

"Get t' the standoff point, find some cover, wait fer the PRFO t' catch up with us."

"Any chance they'll forget about us?" Wash asked.

"Not a chance," Zoë answered her husband. "We're better off waitin' fer them t' find us and then fightin'. It'll give us the best chance t' get away clean."

"Spoken like a true warrior woman," Wash said, beaming with pride.

"She is a warrior, ain't she?" White Swan said in his joking way.

Simon was finding it hard to hang on. He was also finding the space ponies' voices a little odd, somewhat between giggling and a grating on the nerves. "You all right, sweetheart?" Lamb's Eye asked.

"Fine," Simon responded, trying not to fall off.

"We'll get on the trail soon and it'll be easier," Lamb's Eye assured him.

"Not a cowboy, Doc?" Mal called from ahead. "Never would have guessed!"

"No!" Simon yelled back.

They reached the point Mal had chosen. Mal dismounted from Nancy and went back to the wagon to assess the spy's condition. Miles was soaked with sweat, gripping the sides of the stretcher. His mouth was open in anguish. "What are you doing?" he demanded of Mal. "They are going to kill you!"

"Hopefully they'll kill _you_ first," Mal answered. "I'm hopin' t' make a trade."

"Then you're stupider than I thought, Captain," the spy spit. "Anyone who's dealt with the PRFO knows _they don't deal_."

"I'm hopin' I'll be the first," Mal said, refusing to buy into the spy's panic. "After all, I _do_ have this winnin' smile."

"Ain't he lovely," Jayne grumbled from his saddle. Custard Pot whickered softly, but it sounded to everyone gathered like a giggle.

"You check in with Nara?" Kaylee asked. "River doin' all right?"

"S'pose we can check," Wash replied, taking out his com unit. "Nara, you there?"

"What's wrong, Wash?" The Companion's voice crackled over the com link.

"Nothin' yet," Wash answered seriously.

"How's Crazy?" Jayne called.

"_River_ is fine," Inara's calm, cool voice answered. "She's asleep, thanks to the doctor's medication."

There was a swift breeze in the bushes around the standoff point and those gathered there could hear the sound of an oncoming engine or two carried on the wind. "Gotta go, Nara," Wash said hurriedly. "Could be trouble."

"Be safe," Inara said faintly, and then Wash disconnected, tucking the unit into his vest pocket.

Moments later, two transports arrived at the standoff point. The ponies, used to greater calamity, didn't stampede as Simon was expecting them to do. Riding the transports were some of the ugliest men Simon had ever seen. And the ugliest of them all had to be the leader, Falstaff Rizzly.

"Malcolm Reynolds!" the leader yelled. "Glad t' see ya!"

"Wish I could say the same, Rizzly," Mal answered as the army members shut down their transports' engines.

"I'm hopin' you've had a chance t' think about m' offer."

"What offer was that?" Mal asked as though he had forgotten.

"Ya give me what doesn't belong t' ya," Rizzly replied quickly.

"More 'n glad t' do that," Mal said with a bright smile. "I'd also like t' be rid of _this." _He gestured at the wagon hitched to Nancy, and the spy contained therein.

"A spy?" Rizzly asked. "How… quaint."

"We're hopin' you'd like him."

"Like him?" Rizzly asked. "I _love_ him. He's downright old-fashioned. What're ya askin' fer him?"

"Safe passage outa here," Mal shot back. "No fightin'. Much as I like fightin', I'd rather just trade ya the spy."

Rizzly appeared to consider the offer. Simon found he was holding his breath. At last Rizzly said, "Fine. On one condition."

"What's that?"

"The girl. We'd like t'… _speak_ with her."

"Well now, that's gonna be a little difficult," Mal answered.

"Difficult?" Rizzly asked, seemingly having no comprehension of the word.

"Yer spy did somethin' t' our girl," Mal continued. "I'd absolutely _love_ t' let ya have a right rousin' conversation with her, but he gave her a drug and it's right messed her up."

Rizzly furrowed his massive and scarred brow. "What kind o' drug, spy?" he demanded of Miles. He gripped Miles's shoulder, probably because that was the closest body part to him.

"It was… it was merely a Truth-Teller," Miles answered in between gasps of pain. Rizzly's grasp must have been something fierce. "It wasn't anything that would harm her, honest!"

"_Wo de tian a,"_ Simon muttered under his breath. He had heard about the Truth-Teller line of drugs back when he was working in the hospital. They were nothing if not experimental and highly dangerous, not to mention extremely expensive. Certain members of the police force (and others) used them to extract the truth from suspects or witnesses or torture victims. He hadn't heard of them working, ever, but he knew there was always a first time for everything. He _had_ heard of them causing serious side effects in those who the drug was administered to. It could only be worse in River's case. Maybe the spy was right and she _wouldn't_ survive the night. "_Wo de ma_."

Kaylee heard Simon's utterances and turned to look at him, a confused look on her face. He shook his head as if to say "Not right now" and turned back to watch the confrontation between Rizzly, Mal, and the spy.

"I didn't know she would go all crazy!" Miles was still pathetically pleading.

"_Bi zui,_ spy," Rizzly ordered, knocking Miles in the face with his massive, scarred hand. "Ain't got no time t' hear bout how you messed with the one good thing that woulda come out o' this mission."

"How did ya _not_ think she'd go crazy?" Jayne demanded from atop Custard Pot. "That gorram girl's more nutter than anybody else in the verse."

"You had no right t' give that girl anythin', ya hear me?" Rizzly shouted, almost in Miles's face. Wash flinched, obviously "feeling" for the spy, hideous traitor though he was. For one thing, Rizzly probably had _really_ bad breath. "That girl was part o' my bargainin' chip!"

"Whoa now," Mal said, interrupting Rizzly's yell. "_Yer_ bargainin' chip? Bargainin' fer what?"

Rizzly looked a mite embarrassed, if embarrassment was an emotion that could even register on his entirely too large face creased with the evidence of a hard life spent warring. "Uh… well, ya see… I sorta got a score t' settle with the Bugler Battalion."

"Ain't bringin' em a spy enough?" Mal asked.

"It _was_," Rizzly admitted a bit sheepishly. "Then they heard bout that girl o' yours, and they said if'n I was ever t', ya know, let bygones be water over the bridge, I had t' bring them the girl."

"_Tzao-gao_," Kaylee murmured, obviously not talking about Rizzly's mangled metaphors. Beneath her, CoosCoos shifted a bit impatiently as though sensing her quiet despair.

"Now, now, they don't want t' _keep_ her none," Rizzly continued quickly. "They just want t' _talk_ t' her. And I've got the screen t' wave them on, so we won't have t' trouble yers none."

"This talkin' yer talkin' bout, it involve any drugs?" Mal demanded.

Simon was staring at Mal in horror. The captain had to be, to steal a phrase from Jayne, out of his nutter head if he thought he could "lend" River out to anybody and get her back the same.

"No, they's clean as a whistle," Rizzly said.

_Liar_, Simon thought. Whoever this was obviously wanted something with River. Everybody always did.

"Honest, Cap'n, would I try t' cheat ya?"

"Only if you had something to gain," Mal shot back.

Rizzly held his palms up as if to say "Me?" and gestured at his men. "Did we come with weapons, honorable Cap'n?"

Mal had to grudgingly admit, "No," after looking at Rizzly's men, who were very obviously unarmed. He _almost_ felt sorta bad about arming each member of his crew (yes, even Simon) to the teeth. He had _almost_ relented when Jayne had asked to bring grenades along, but had come to his senses.

"Take us t' the girl, and we'll get what's ours and be off," Rizzly promised.

"And you'll take the spy with ya?" Mal asked. "And that'll be it for me n mine?"

"Of course, honorable Cap'n!" Rizzly said, as though he was surprised that Mal even had to ask.

"Lemme speak with my crew a minute," Mal said to Rizzly. He stepped behind the wagon and drew the reins of Kaylee and Jayne's ponies off to the side of the clearing, Wash, Simon, and Zoë following. From there he could plainly see all of their faces, which were in various states of concern. Simon was the most concerned, Mal could see that plainly. He was no doubt artfully and surgically dismembering Rizzly and his men one by one in his mind, as practice for later, if that would save his sister from these brutes. Kaylee was first concerned for Simon, Mal could tell, then herself, then River, _then_ the rest of them. It made sense, in an odd way, Mal thought. Simon was obviously the weakest link in the group, and after all she'd been through that day, River was not in the "I'm a weapon and I'll kill whoever stands in my way" mode.

Jayne looked thuggish and brutish as he always did, but behind his tough façade was genuine worry, Mal knew, probably that they would get into a standoff with PRFO when he didn't have any grenades, and then of course for the rest of their survival and well-being.

Wash looked worried because he wasn't piloting anything, just riding a gorram talking space pony. Zoë didn't look worried, but then again she usually never looked worried. She was coolly and calmly waiting for her captain to tell her what to do, and then she would do it. She was the only one who met Mal's gaze as he drew the ponies into a circle.

"Listen here," Mal said, "_wo mun wan leh_."

"Yer not kiddin'," Jayne muttered.

"Now, we got some decidin' t' do," Mal continued, speaking quietly but deliberately. "What we're gonna do bout this."

"That's yer decision, sir," Zoë remarked from atop Red Heart.

"Yeah, but it's gonna affect _all_ o' us," Mal answered, for the first time realizing how dangerous this situation was getting. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed that Rizzly and his thugs were still staring at them. "And we gotta do it _fast_. Doc?"

"What?" Simon asked abruptly, as though he had been having another, more interesting conversation in another time and space.

"If we let them at her, is she gonna make it through?"

"And not kill em?" Jayne added quickly.

"I'm not seeing the 'bad' part of her killin' them," Wash said.

"I couldn't tell you, not after… not after that _le-se_ spy drugged her with a Truth-Teller. She's apt to do anything, least of which is fall down dead, apparently," Simon answered truthfully.

Mal had been expecting a better answer, one more concise and filled with precise medical terms. At this his mind went a little blank. "Oh."

"Honorable sir?" one of the ponies said. Mal turned; it was Lamb's Eye, the oldest and gentlest. "If I may be permitted t' make a quick suggestion…"

Mal leaned forward, mostly to ignore Jayne's eye-rolling and as to not hear his comments ("We're letting a gorram _pony_ give us orders!") but also to get the full effect of the pony's words. "Yes?"

"Well, honorable sir," Lamb's Eye continued, "havin' dealt with these men a'fore, I believe it would be best to give them zactly what they came fer. If they don't get it, they're gonna go wild on ya and yer crew… and I don't want that, honorable sir. I've… rather taken a shine t' ya."

"You've dealt with the PRFO a'fore?" Kaylee asked.

Lamb's Eye nodded, a gentle motion that threatened to throw Simon to the dusty ground. "That I have," she replied, but gave no further explanation.

"Well, here's the plan," Mal said. "Doc, you know that they will hurt River _chu fei wo si le_, you hear me? And I'm sure there's nothin' Jayne _won't_ do t' protect his Crazy."

Jayne, done eye-rolling, assured Simon, "Yeah. I'll protect Crazy t' the ends o' the gorram verse 'n back." The crew gathered could hear no trace of sarcasm in his voice, which was very, very odd, given Jayne and his usual motives.

"That was oddly touchin' o' ya, Jayne," Kaylee said.

"Well, ruttin' hell! The girl's a ruttin' _xiong can sha shou_; don't think I wouldn't protect one o' them!"

Simon was forced into a smile he hadn't been expecting by Jayne's appropriately apt description of his sister. Kaylee was giggling next to him, even though it seemed to Mal's ears that giggling was not a good thing to do when brutes were staring you down.

"Here's the plan. We'll take them back t' _Serenity_. Put the whole gorram place on lock-down. They can have their talk with River, if she's awake."

"And if she's not, sir?" Zoë asked.

"Then we'll wait til she is." Mal was becoming surer of himself. "We'll keep her and the brutes in a room with Jayne n his guns."

Jayne nodded. He had heard "Jayne" and "guns" in the same sentence; everything was going to be all right.

"We'll let em talk t' her, figure out whatever they need figurin'. Then we'll give em the cargo they need, and they'll be gone." Mal finished his plan, looking straight on at each of the crew.

"You better radio Nara n let her know we's comin'," Kaylee said. "She won't want any surprises at the last minute." Her giggles had fallen away and she was looking rather pale. Mal noticed at the last moment before he turned away that there was a streak of grease running under her delicate ear.

"I will," Wash offered, bringing out his com unit and beginning to speak into it.

"We goin' on ponies, Cap'n?" Jayne asked.

Mal nodded. "Let's mount up n take these brutes back t' the ship, whaddya say?"

Jayne gave him a rare genuine smile and said, "Let's go." He tugged the reins and nudged Custard Pot back onto the trail leading back to Spake's Fault and _Serenity_.

Translations: _wo de tian a_: dear God in heaven

_wo de ma:_ mother of God

_bi zui: _shut up

_tzao-gao: _oh crap

_wo mun wan leh_: we're in big trouble

_le-se_: garbage

_chu fe wo si le_: over my dead body

_xiong can sha-shou_: ass-kicking killer

Remember to review!


	12. When Kettles Attack

Hey, guess what? The disclaimer's the same! Oh, but Falstaff Rizzly? He's mine.(Isn't he lovely?) Let's see, you should turn on: "Listen To Your Heart" - D.H.T. Oh, and please please please review!

Inara had long since cleaned up the small mess she'd made making the chocolate and had returned to her shuttle. River had been silent and Inara was hoping that meant she had stayed asleep. It was a surprise to her when the com unit crackled and Wash's voice said, "Nara? We've found trouble, and they's comin' home with us."

"The PRFO's coming back to _Serenity?_" Inara asked, a bit taken aback.

"Yeah," Wash answered as though he had merely said "Your dress is pretty." "They've got some hankerin' need t' talk t' River, and a hankerin' need t' get somethin' from our cargo. Is River awake?"

"I don't think so," Inara began, and then she heard a loud, horrible crash from upstairs.

"What was that?" Wash asked.

"I don't know," Inara answered, "but I think there's trouble here."

"Hey!" Wash yelled, obviously not to Inara. "She's awake!"

"Oh, _ren ci de Fo zu_," Inara murmured. "Wash, tell Mal to hurry back!"

"Will do," Wash answered. Inara heard Mal's voice: "Let's head out!" and then the com unit crackled into silence.

Inara carefully opened the door to her shuttle and looked out. Seeing no one in the corridor, she hurried back to the bunk where she'd left River asleep. The door was still locked from the outside, but horrible clanging noises were coming from within. Inara could hear the girl muttering, but she couldn't make out the words. "River?"

There was a long pause, then the muttering resumed. "River?" Inara tried again.

_Clang!_ "_Shen me?"_

"River, what are you doing?"

_Clang!_ "Haveta find it!" The voice had become a yell, loud and infuriated. "It's not _in here!_"

"What are you looking for?" Inara asked, afraid to open the door.

_Crash! Clang, clang!_ "Where did you put it, Simon? Should have known you'd put it in the worst possible place!" _Clang!_ "He's going to die very, very slowly at someone else's hands!" _Clang!_ Then the girl recited a rhyme Inara had only heard once before, and which had not lost any of its eerie creepiness over the years. "Cups and plates and forks and spoons, someone's dying and dying _soon_!" _Clang!_

Inara closed her eyes and uttered a swift prayer, although she wasn't quite sure who or what she was praying for or to. Then, through the door, River's voice took on a singsong quality. "Cobbler, cobbler, mend my shoe, get it done by half past two, Stitch it up and stitch it down, and I'll give you half a crown."

"River?" Inara moved cautiously towards the door and put her hand on the lock. She closed her eyes and murmured one more prayer. "River, I'm coming in."

_Clang!_ _Crash!_ "Monday's child is fair of face, Tuesday's child is full of grace, Wednesday's child is full of woe, Thursday's child has far to go, Friday's child is loving and giving, Saturday's child works hard for a living, But the child born on the Sabbath day is bonny and blithe and good and gay…" _Clang!_

Inara had just slid the lock back and was preparing to open the door when she heard an engine roar outside _Serenity_. The com link in her hand hissed and Mal's voice said, "Nara! Open us up!"

She slid the lock back into the locked position and ran for the hold to open the doors for their unexpected visitors. There they were, all of them safe and… riding ponies? Yes, they were all riding ponies; _space_ ponies, Inara remembered. And they were followed by some of the ugliest men Inara had ever seen, riding motor-propelled transports. "Howdy, fair lady!" the ugliest of them said.

"This here's Falstaff Rizzly," Mal informed her, swinging down from his pony. "Nancy, you stay here n take care o' our spy, ya hear?"

"Yes, honorable sir," the pony answered, and Inara stifled a giggle.

"What?" Mal demanded.

"It's just… the perfect woman for you, Mal! She takes orders _and_ treats you respectably." Inara giggled, just a little. The pony gave Inara a knowing smile.

"Pleased t' meet ya," the ugly man said. He took Inara's slender white hand in his own very large, scarred, meaty hand and brought it to his very ugly scabby lips in a parody of a kiss. Inara utilized all of her Companion training not to vomit on his large and very ugly boots.

"River's awake," Inara murmured to Simon when Rizzly had finished molesting her hand. "She's in a mite of a fit."

Simon closed his eyes and Inara said a silent prayer along with him. When he opened his eyes, he said, quietly, to her, "These _tian sha de e mo_ are going to hurt her, I just know it. And she's been hurt far too much today."

"Doctor, would I let that happen?" Inara said with one of her beautiful smiles.

"Well… no?"

"That's right." Smoothing her dress and preening a little, she called out to the PRFO men, "Gentlemen! Right this way!"

"Thank ya kindly," Rizzly said. He and his men followed Inara out of the hold, Jayne (armed with Vera and his newest prize, Minerva) wandering after them. Simon followed, slower, in an inquisitive two-step.

"Wash, put us on lock-down," Mal ordered the pilot once the PRFO men were out of sight. "Zoë…"

"I know. Guard the exits and give your sorry backside backup. Got it," Zoë replied with a crisp nod and only a tiny smile.

"Kaylee…"

"Yes, Cap'n?"

"Wash yer face," Mal said with a smile he reserved just for her.

"Aye, aye, Cap'n!" she said with an even bigger grin, and ran off towards her own bunk.

Mal waited until she was out of sight, then holstered his own gun. "Nancy, take care of our spy," he ordered. "The rest o' you, do as Nancy says!"

"Aye, honorable sir!" the ponies bleated as one.

He ran out after Inara and the trailing men and caught up to them in the hallway. "Open th' door!" one of the PRFO men was saying.

"I don't know…" Inara said slowly.

_Clang! Crash! Clang! Bang!_ "One, two, three, four, five. Once I caught a fish alive…"

"_I_ know," Rizzly said loudly, and slid the lock back.

River was standing there in front of them with a grin on her face. It was her "crazy grin," as Jayne would attest. "Six, seven, eight, nine, ten. Then I let it go again."

"This is her?" Rizzly asked. He received several nods in confirmation.

"Why did you let it go? Because it bit my finger so! Which finger did it bite? This little finger on the _right!" _

Upon yelling the last word, she held up her hand. Those gathered in the hallway could plainly see that her smallest finger on her right hand was a bloody mess. As best Simon could see, she had ripped the fingernail off. "_Wo de tian a!"_ Simon murmured, trying not to alarm the PRFO men. "Mei-mei…"

"This is _her?"_ Rizzly asked again, as though he hadn't believed them the first time.

"You were lookin' fer River Tam, Rizzly?" Mal asked. "This is her."

River gave what Jayne would describe as her "crazy grin" to the men gathered and began to recite another nonsense rhyme. "Ride a fine horse to Banbury Cross, to see a fine lady upon a white horse. With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes, she shall have music wherever she goes."

Rizzly was staring at the girl as though entranced. One of his men (who was scarred and fairly bad-looking but nowhere near as ugly as Rizzly himself) said, "Sir? Whaddya want us t' do?"

River took a step back, still staying in eye contact with Rizzly, and swung a large kettle, which she held in her right hand, at the wall. _Clang!_ Inara jumped, even though she had been hearing the noise for the last fifteen minutes. "Old woman, old woman, old woman, quoth I, where are you going up so high? To brush the cobwebs off the sky! May I go with you? Yes, by-and-by."

_Clang!_

"Sir?" Rizzly's man asked again. "What wouldja like us t' do?"

Rizzly opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He closed it and opened it again. This time words came out. "This… isn't… her."

Jayne stepped between them. "Ruttin' hell it ain't!" he declared. "Yer lookin' fer a girl, tetched in the head? A mite crazy? This is her, most def'nitely."

River smiled up at him. "As I went to Bonner, I met a pig without a wig, upon my word and honor."

Simon had been holding his breath since the door had opened and now he found a reason – as River finished reciting the rhyme, she took the kettle and swung it with great delight. It connected with a solid _thunk_ with Jayne's head and the man stumbled about groggily until he slumped to the floor, the better to sit and hold his head. River giggled.

"River!" Simon said, loud enough for her to hear him, if of course she was in a hearing mood.

"Doc, maybe you'd best be puttin' her sleepy-bye," Mal said from behind the doctor.

"Daffy Down Dilly has come to town, in a yellow petticoat and a green gown!" River said excitedly to Simon, as though she was telling him a very thrilling story.

"Doc?" Mal asked tentatively. "Whaddya want t' do?"

Rizzly was still standing in shock, leaning against the door frame. His men were looking at each other with obvious concern; it was fairly clear that their invincible leader had never been this surprised before. He had never been wrong before, apparently.

River gave another smile to Simon, and he was sure this time she was speaking directly to him. "A diller, a dollar, a ten o'clock scholar! What makes you come so soon? You used t' come at ten o'clock, and now you come at noon!" She _clang_ed the kettle on the wall again, and Simon was glad it wasn't Jayne's head.

"River," he said. "Come here."

Obediently she stepped forward, daintily over Jayne's legs. "_Shen me?"_

"Give me that," he said, and she unquestioningly handed him the kettle.

"Wait, wait!" one of Rizzly's men yelled. "Don't you take her anywhere! Cap'n, she's still our girl!"

"Where would I take her?" Simon asked innocently. "Why would I want to remove her from your honorable presence?" He heard Mal removing his gun from his holster; the captain's movements blocked by the doctor and his sister. He saw River's eyes looking up at him with absolute trust (and maybe just a mite of craziness), and then he said, loud enough to be heard, "_Eta koram na smech_."

River slumped to the floor, as Simon knew she would. The doctor himself ducked, and found Inara doing the same thing. Mal instantly had his gun drawn and, before anyone could blink, had taken out three of Rizzly's six men. Zoë appeared almost instantaneously from behind and took out two of the others. "Shoulda known better than t' come unarmed," Mal said to the remaining man.

"Wait a second," the man said. "What're ya doin'?"

"Takin' yer sorry ass prisoner," Mal replied. "Zoë, let's make our new friends a mite more comfortable, whaddya say?" Mal said as they led the two remaining PRFO officers off, Rizzly still murmuring, "That isn't her!"

Inara and Simon stood from their crouch. Inara was still, surprisingly enough, smiling and looked unruffled by the recent scuffle. "You did well, Simon."

"Thanks," he said, a little embarrassed. "I guess I should…"

"River," she said with a knowing nod. "And Jayne."

"Oh, Jayne'll be just fine," Simon said, smiling a little broader. "It's just his head, and that isn't any particular loss."

"Isn't that the truth," Inara said, returning his smile.

At that moment Kaylee ran in. "Where's the Cap'n and Zoë? Wash wants t' know if he can take us off lock-down."

"Uh, they took the prisoners… somewhere," Simon answered, nodding.

"Prisoners?" Kaylee demanded, her face aghast.

Inara nodded. "Falstaff Rizzly and one of his men."

"_We took the PRFO hostage?" _Kaylee asked, her eyes going wide.

"They were… unarmed?" Simon offered tentatively.

"Shoulda know the Cap'n would make a _yu ben de_ mistake!" Kaylee said, completely ignoring Simon's pathetic answer. "He's gonna get us killed!"

"What are you talking about?" Inara asked. "They were unarmed."

Kaylee was shaking her head in disbelief. "Ain't gonna matter much whether they were armed or not. The PRFO's only got one o' the best messagin' systems in the verse!" she said. "Them buttons on their uniforms, the right shiny ones?" Upon Simon's nod, she continued, "Not just fer looks. Rizzly could have a zillion men on th' way here already, and them'll be _armed_, you bet yer shiny coins on it."

"They communicate with… _buttons?"_

"Don't look so shocked," Kaylee said crisply in response to Simon's query. "They wasn't the ones came up with it – some folks on Ariel thought it up and the PRFO stole it when they broke off." She turned away from Simon and began hurrying away from the bunk, then turned and looked at Simon and Inara. "Why's… Jayne on the floor?"

"Kettle," Simon said, as Inara answered, "Long story."

"Kay. Just wanted t' make sure he'll still be round fer the gun fight that's gonna happen here." With that inspiring speech, she disappeared into the upper corridor, seeking the Captain and Zoë.

"Gun fight?" Simon said, panic rising in his brain.

"Think small thoughts," Inara suggested. "River. Then Jayne. _Then_ gun fight."

"Right. Small thoughts."

"And keep breathing," the Companion ordered as she hurried away.

"Right. Breathing." Simon turned around to see a decidedly empty catwalk. His panic shot up to an unhealthy level. "River?"

Translations: _ren ci de Fo zu_ - merciful Buddha

_shen me_: What? (or) Sorry?

_tian sha de e mo_ - goddamn monsters

_wo de tian a - _dear god in heaven

_yu ben de_ - stupid

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	13. Steal or Be Stolen, Dong Ma?

So... the disclaimer hasn't changed, but, if you want (and you really should), you can turn on "Where Are We Runnin'?" - Lenny Kravitz. Good tradeoff, no?

"You think that'll hold em, Captain?"

"Should hold em til we're outa here," Mal answered.

"Where're we goin', sir?" Zoë asked.

Mal stopped as though he hadn't considered that. "Oh."

"Gotta tell Wash where t' go, he's not much fer thinkin' up places t' go. He'd prob'ly set us down on Osiris and the feds would be all over us faster than you could spit. He's a wonderful pilot, don't get me wrong, sir, but he ain't got the head fer thinkin' up these life-savin' plans the way you do."

"Oh," Mal repeated. He had only been thinking of decreasing the PRFO's numbers, not what to do with them once that situation had occurred. Before he could say "Oh" or something equally as witty, Kaylee ran in. "Cap'n, situation! Not a good un, either!"

"What is it, Kaylee?" Zoë asked.

"The PRFO? They've been communicatin' with their men. And more likely than not, a whole passel o' PRFO men are on their way here. T' fight t' get their leader back. And kill you, although I'm supposin' that's only a secondary honor."

"How do you know?"

"Them buttons on their uniforms…"

"Oh, yeah," Zoë said, suddenly knowing. "Communication ports."

"_Ai ya, wo mun wan leh_," Mal said, something intelligent coming to his brain at last.

"Where're we goin', sir?" Zoë asked.

"Far," Mal said. "Kaylee, the engine gonna give us a push if she's needed?"

Kaylee nodded hurriedly, but before she could speak, Simon entered the hallway. "River's gone!"

"_What_?" Mal questioned. "Wasn't she just…"

"Asleep, I know! I turned around and she was gone!"

"Like, _gone_ gone?"

"Is there any other gone to be?" Simon replied anxiously.

"She couldn't have gone far," Zoë said. "I'll look for her, sir. You figure out where Wash is gonna take us next." To Simon, she said, "Is she armed?"

"Kettle. The big one that's really more of a soup pot, I suppose…"

"_Zhen dao mei_," Zoë said, a bit ironically, and ran off, Mal shouting, "_Don't shoot her!"_ after her.

"What about the ponies?" Kaylee asked Mal. He hadn't thought about the ponies. He shrugged, then answered quickly, "Wave Abeni, tell her we're borrowin' em fer the time bein' and we'll get em back t' her as soon as it's convenient!"

"I'm sure she'll _love_ that, Cap'n," Kaylee said.

"Don't argue, just _do it!"_

Her eyes went wide and she ran off, her boots clanging on the walk. "Doc," Mal said, "you'd best be preparin' the infirmary. Where's Jayne?"

"Right here!" Jayne managed to say as he stumbled into the corridor. "Right here."

"Got yer guns?"

"Do ya haveta ask?" Jayne asked.

"Well, Jayne, I _am_ asking, because… you seem to be missin' them."

Jayne looked down at his holsters, which were empty, and then he looked up at Mal. There was immense shock on his face, what Mal would have expected from a wee 'un if they'd been told Christmas was canceled. Then an answer seemed to penetrate his thick head. "You… don't… think…" A glance at Mal told him _exactly_ what he thought. "Gorram crazy moon brain daughter of a…! _Lao tian ye!"_

Mal put a hand to his forehead, unsure of whether he was trying to stop laughing or crying. Jayne's favorite "gorram crazy" had run off with his guns, and apparently a soup kettle, no telling which one would do more damage in her trained but pale hands. The PRFO was coming, and coming fast, and these ones would be armed. He was carrying a load of space ponies and one shot-up spy, who was probably still moaning and pissing his ruttin' head off down in the cargo bay. Could the day get any better?

"Cap'n?" he heard Kaylee's voice.

"Oh God," Mal said, a hint of a laugh or a sob in his voice. "This better not be bad news, Kaywinnit Lee Frye…"

"No, not bad news, Cap'n. Abeni says that's fine, she was s'pectin' you'd need t' borrow em anyways."

"Good."

"What's the plan?" Simon asked.

"First, we find yer moon brain sister a'fore she kills m' crew with Jayne's guns," Mal said. "Then we get the hell outa here."

"Where're we goin'?" Kaylee asked.

"We're runnin'," Mal said.

"We're good at that," Kaylee remarked cheerily.

"Damn straight we are."

Translations: _ai ya, wo mun wan le - _Oh my, we're in big trouble.

_zhen dao mei_ - just our luck!

_lao tian ye_ - Jesus!

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	14. Ants, Ants, Ants

So, something changed... and it wasn't the disclaimer. This chapter, you can rock out to: "Never Let You Go" - Third Eye Blind. Oh, and by the way, "hyperphasia" isn't a real medical condition, at least that I could find, but it's the right name for one if it did exist.

"River?" Simon asked cautiously as he stepped into the infirmary. He was, as usual, unarmed; at least, he had no gun. The Captain had not seen it fit to give him a gun, even though they both knew Jayne had upwards of an arsenal stored in his bunk. Simon had mixed feelings about that. On one hand, it reduced the number of weapons River could forcibly take from someone. On the other, he was now armed with a heavy medical text. If she had weapons – which she did, no laughin' matter bout that – a book would do a whole lot of… nothing much.

He heard someone in the hallway behind him and he whirled, holding the book high. It was Zoë, with her gun. Upon making eye contact with each other, both lowered their respective weapons (though Simon had to admit Zoë's would be a tad more useful than his in a struggle) slightly. "Find her yet?" Zoë questioned the doctor, who shook his head in response. "We're runnin' out of places to look."

"Here's a thought," Jayne said from behind them. He had obviously been to his bunk, for new weapons hung in his holsters. "Crazy's gonna have nother fit and we'll find her then!"

Simon waited for this thought to penetrate his brain. He hadn't counted on that. Wouldn't the drug have worn off yet? Well, no, according to Miles; it was supposed to kill her first. A seizure would certainly give them the time they needed to get the weapons away from his sister. "Good thinking, Jayne."

Jayne looked surprised. "Really?"

"Really."

"_Xie-xie_," Jayne replied gruffly.

From above them they heard a _clang._ "Soup pot, y' think?" Zoë asked.

"Sounded like one t' me," Jayne answered authoritatively, as though he was an expert on what a soup pot sounded like as it hit metal. "Let's go." Then, considering the doctor, who was still holding his book, he said, "Well, me n Zoë'll go. You kin stay here. We'll call ya if she's havin' a fit."

"Don't shoot her," Simon said, but he doubted they heard.

Jayne and Zoë moved carefully, almost stealthily, to the place where they thought the noise had originated. No one was there. Then they heard the noise again and both of them whirled in opposite directions, holding their weapons at the ready. "River?" Zoë asked.

"I told you they were coming," River's voice said softly.

"Jayne," Zoë said softly, "_no shooting_."

"Then what've we got the guns fer?"

Zoë shot him a warning glare and he got the message. Zoë stepped forward. "River, where are you?"

"It hurts."

"Come out where we can see you."

"It hurts. It hurts bad. Everywhere. All over. Like ants in my skin."

"River, come out," Zoë repeated. "We're not going to hurt you."

"Come out, come out, wherever you are," Jayne murmured.

"Everywhere hurts," the girl continued, and Zoë could hear that she was crying. "All over. Ants! Ants, everywhere!"

"River," Zoë said once more.

Jayne had reached the end of the walk nearest the engine room. "Here she is," he said disgustedly. "Hidin' like a mouse."

Zoë stepped forward until she was shoulder-to-shoulder with Jayne and looked down at the girl. River's eyes were big and sad with pain. The soup pot was on the floor next to her, and Jayne's guns were in it. All over her pale skin, at least all that Jayne and Zoë could see, was a spiraling, angry red rash. "Oh God," Zoë said as she took it in. "What is that, ya think?"

Jayne was shaking his head. "Dunno."

"Get the doctor," Zoë said. When Jayne didn't move, she repeated, louder, "_Get the doctor!"_ River flinched at the loud noise. Zoë knelt down to face her as Jayne ran off, his boots thumping the walk loudly. "Sweetheart, it's going to be all right."

"The ants go marching one by one, hurrah, hurrah," River said, choking the words out between sobs.

Wash chose that moment to lift off. The captain's words echoed through the air via intercom: "Attention _Serenity_ crew, we are headed for… well, we're gettin' the hell outa here. Hopefully headed fer Hazel's Line. If'n we make it that far."

Simon came running along the walk and knelt down next to Zoë. His eyes grew wide as he took in his sister, hiding amongst the pipes, in obvious pain. "What is this?" he asked.

"A side effect from whatever the spy gave her, ya think?" Zoë suggested.

Simon closed his eyes as though he was trying to remember something. Then he said, opening his eyes, "I believe that the end is very near."

"Don't start talkin' in code with me now, Doc," Zoë said firmly. "Got one of ya doin' that, that's enough."

"What I meant was, the Truth-Teller drugs are a very odd line of drugs, with specific side effects and consequences. I can't imagine why I didn't see this coming, now that we know what it was he gave her."

Zoë looked at him, puzzled. "What do ya mean?"

"Seizures first. We've seen that. Then rashes, followed by a decline in logic and reasoning patterns. Then hyperphasia."

"Hyper-what?" Jayne asked, standing over the doctor's shoulder like a very large guard dog.

"She's going to start talking. A lot."

"How's that any different from what she does now?" Jayne demanded.

"She won't be able to stop. And she won't really know what she's saying. It'll just be a reflex triggered in her brain by the drug."

"Oh. Then what?"

"Then… if we can't stop it, more seizures. And brain death."

"Well, _shit_," Jayne said. He looked at Zoë. "Don't want no death on _Serenity_. Least a' ways, not anybody I… uh…"

"We get it, Jayne. You don't want anybody but you killin' the 'gorram crazy,'" Zoë said.

"Did I say that?"

"Come here, mei-mei," Simon said, reaching for River's arm. She drew back and screamed at him, "No, no, hurts!"

"Attention _Serenity_ folk," Mal's voice said over the intercom, "we're going to be flying into a bit of… well, a rough spot. Nothin' t' worry bout, but… uh… y' might want t' be takin' real close care o' yerself fer a bit."

The ship suddenly did a dip, followed by an extremely fast left swing. Jayne grabbed on to Zoë as to prevent the woman from taking an unplanned leap over the railing. Simon braced himself on the pipes. "River, you have to come with me."

"The ants are already inside me."

"I know. I can fix that." He was bluffing. He couldn't fix this.

As usual, she saw right through it. He should have known better than to lie to her. There was a reason he'd never been good at poker. "Can't fix everything. You're not as good as you think you are. You're just faster than they'd like."

"River, listen to me. Would I ever lie to you?"

"You lie all the time."

"But not to you. I love you."

"Sometimes people lie to people they love."

"Not you. Believe me."

"Can't trust anybody," she singsongs. "Cups and plates and forks and spoons, someone's dying and dying soon."

"Then it'll be some of those PRFO _tian sha de e mo_," Simon informed her. "Not you."

"Language, you liar."

"Would I lie to you?"

"I believe we've been this way before, though I'm as lost as you."

"Come with me. Let's see if I can fix those ants."

"You're not an exterminator."

"I don't need to be."

"Liar."

"_River_." He was becoming impatient. The clock was ticking.

The ship took another dip, and Mal's voice, a little less reassuring, came over the intercom again. "Well, seems as though we're… uh… being shot at. No need t' alarm yerselves, we should make it through just fine."

"Ruttin' hell we will," Jayne said, and headed for the bridge.

"Simon, do you need help?" Zoë asked.

"I'll let you know," he responded. "You can… go… help, or whatever."

She nodded and went in the same direction Jayne had gone only moments before. Simon turned his attention back to his sister. "Come here. I want to help."

"Can't. Not anymore. They're already inside me."

"Who? _Who's_ inside you?"

"Who isn't? Who isn't in here?" she replied with a bitter laugh. Then her voice changed to that of a child in immense pain. "It hurts, it hurts, it _hurts!"_

"I want to help." The ship did a hard right. Simon swallowed hard. "Listen to me."

She shook her head, her eyes closed, as though she was nothing more than a bratty little sister disobeying her older brother rather than a mentally traumatized psychic genius in danger of dying at an accelerated rate. "Go help the spy!" she choked out, suddenly angry again. "Betcha you care more about him than me!"

"Who told you that?"

"They all told me!"

"Well, you can tell them to… stuff it," Simon said, using an expression he hadn't trotted out in awhile. "They're wrong. You come first."

"Less somebody else gets hurt."

"No. You are _first_."

She laughed again, still bitterly. "Cups and plates and forks and spoons, someone's dying and dying soon."

"River. Don't make me…"

"What? Make you _what?_ I never make you do anything, you just do it all yourself!"

There. She had sounded lucid at last. Simon should have been congratulating himself on her lucidity, but he knew that firstly there was no time to waste and secondly it wouldn't last.

He was right.

"The ants go marching two by two, hurrah, hurrah. Hear them? I can hear all of their little tiny feet inside me, tap-dancing in my veins."

He reached into her hidey hole, grabbed her by the arms, and pulled her towards him. She screamed as he touched her rash-covered skin, a breathless scream that threatened to rob her of air. He pulled her into a standing position, looped his arm around her waist, and began to gently lead her towards the infirmary. She stumbled, her bare feet covered in the spiraling red pattern like the rest of her body, the screaming not ending.

"Doc?" It was Jayne, speaking loudly to be heard over the screams. "You killin' the girl?"

"No," Simon said, in the same tone. "If she survives, you can have that honor for the next time she steals your guns."

"I jest wanted t' know if you needed help," Jayne said, a little sheepishly. "Wash said I make him nervous, so he kicked me out."

"Oh. Well, here. Hold onto her so she won't run away." Simon waited until Jayne's grip had replaced his own, then hurried over to one of the drawers. "First, something for pain. Then, treat the rash. Then… then what?"

"Hey, Crazy," Jayne was saying, trying to get River to pay attention to him. He brushed her hair out of her face. "Hey, listen here. Nara told me she gave you chocolate t' day. She ain't given none o' _us_ chocolate, you must be somethin' special."

River stopped screaming all of a sudden, and the silence felt like marshmallows stuffed in Jayne and Simon's ears. Breaking the silence, she looked up at Jayne confusedly. "You're not Uncle Max."

"Damn straight I ain't." To Simon, the mercenary said, "Who's Uncle Max?"

"We don't have an Uncle Max," Simon replied, having finished grabbing all of his supplies. He ripped open a few of the packages and laid them out on the counter.

Jayne was looking concerned. "This the… loopy part you talked about?"

Simon didn't want to admit it. "Probably."

"What d' we d' now?"

"Drugs, try to catch up and make up for the time we don't have. And… prayer. Maybe that wouldn't hurt so much."

Simon was expecting it, but Jayne didn't laugh.

Translations: _xie-xie_: thank you

_tian sha de e mo_: goddamn monsters

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	15. Green Girls Don't Drink Champagne

I think you can figure out the disclaimer thing yourself; you're probably really smart. So, turn up "Come On Eileen" by Dexy's Midnight Runners, and enjoy this chapter!

"What's goin' on, sir?" Zoë asked.

"Well, Zoë," Mal said, "them are PRFO ships. And they's shootin' at us."

"What's the plan, sir?" Zoë questioned, ignoring her captain's sarcasm.

"Engine boost, ya think?" Wash asked.

"Where're we goin'?"

"Hazel's Line, you said... but at this point it's really not gonna matter much."

"Engine boost. Right." Mal scooped up the intercom and bellowed into it, "Kaylee! Engine boost!"

Faintly, he heard Kaylee: "Sure thing, Cap'n!"

"Zoë, you best go check on th' ponies. And our spy."

"Whaddya think the spy's doin', the foxtrot?" Wash asked with only a tiny tinge of sarcasm. "He was strapped t' a stretcher, last I knew."

"And spies are a tricky lot," Mal countered. "Zoë, go."

Zoë ran off.

"Wash, you think we're gonna make it t' Hazel's Line?"

"Am I playing the optimist in this scene?"

"Sure; I could stand to hear something good fer once."

"Yes, we're going to make it, Captain! What makes you think we wouldn't? We'll be inside atmo in…" Wash checked his watch "maybe six hours or less! And there's no _way_ the PRFO can keep up shootin' fer that long!" A pause. "A little too much optimism, y' think?"

"Yeah. Specially the part bout them not being able t' shoot at us fer that long."

"That _was_ a bit much," Wash agreed. "Seein' as how we're gettin' killed here."

_Serenity_ dove low to avoid one of the oncoming PRFO ships. "Here she comes," Wash murmured. Mal didn't know what he was referring to until suddenly he felt in the engine boost kick in. The ship banked hard right. Something above them burst into flames, raining exploded bits onto them. "That wasn't us, right?"

"Correct, Cap'n my Cap'n. We are still _not_ on fire."

"Sir!" Zoë had returned.

"Tell me good news," Mal begged.

"The ponies are fine. I think the spy's dead."

Mal and Wash said as one, "_Dead?"_

"Well, he ain't breathin' none."

"_Ta ma de!"_ Mal yelled.

"Maybe he's playin' possum," Wash suggested.

"Sir, what would you like me to do?"

"Nothing. If he's dead he's better off now."

"I meant about the PRFO… uh… hostages."

"Whaddya _think_ we're gonna do with them? Set em down fer tea?"

"I just meant… are we going to trade?"

"A trade was all well n good a'fore they started shootin' at us," Mal replied. "What's the Doc doin'?"

"Treatin' River."

"A fit?"

"Worse."

"What's worse than a fit?" Wash asked, his eyes glued to the scene unfolding outside _Serenity_.

"Death," Zoë snapped, which had the added bonus of shutting Wash up.

"_Cai bu shi_ is she dying," Mal said. "Wash, engine boost?"

"Couldn't hurt."

"Kaylee!" Mal barked into the intercom.

"Cap'n, a'fore you say 'engine boost' or any phrase that includes the words 'engine boost'…"

"We need an engine boost, Kaylee."

"It won't…"

"_Make it happen_."

The ship pulled hard left. "Wash, are you _tryin'_ t' kill us?"

"Tryin' t' stop us from bein' killed," Wash answered testily. "Oh… here we go!" he yelled.

The engine boost kicked in and _Serenity_ rocketed forward. "Here we go indeed," Zoë murmured, putting a reassuring hand on Wash's Hawaiian-print-clad shoulder.

"Attention… uh… everybody, this is your captain speaking. We are… uh… still on the receiving end of some… uh… nasty PRFO fire, and we're still heading fer Hazel's Line." Mal hung up the intercom. "No more intercom-talk. I always come off soundin' like a fool."

"Aye, aye," Wash said. "No argument here, Cap'n my Cap'n."

"Wash, d' ya think we're gonna make it out of this not-so-friendly-fire without anythin' of ours bein' missin'?"

"Anythin' we _need?_ No."

"Ya got a plan?"

"That's _yer_ business, sir," Zoë reminded him. "Not that you do it very well, but, still, for the sake of appearances…"

"I'm thinkin' we try a Sullen Edom," Wash answered, ignoring his wife's protests. "They us'lly work very well."

"A what?"

"Come on, don't tell me you've forgotten my favorite flyin' trick!" Wash exclaimed, still focused on guiding the ships through the incoming fire.

"I thought a Crazy Ivan was yer favorite," Mal replied tensely.

"Well, that one's right good, don't get me wrong, but..."

"_Sullen Edom_. What is it?" Mal demanded.

"Oh! It's right great," Wash answered happily. "See, we swing around…"

"Into the oncoming PRFO ship?"

"No, course not, Cap'n! We swing around and get behind one o' those PRFO ships, so he doesn't know we're followin' him, then wait til his cronies come lookin' fer us, then dive hard left, then… uh…"

"This plan sounds full of holes, sir," Zoë interrupted.

"I am a leaf on the wind, watch how I soar," Wash remarked testily. "It _always_ works. I just… have problems describing it."

"How many times?" Mal asked.

"What?"

"_How many times have you used a Sullen Edom?"_

"Five. Maybe. Six?"

Mal pursed his lips. "Fine. Do it. But I don't want to know about it." He left the bridge.

"Yes, sir, Cap'n my Cap'n!" Wash said, and went about pulling off the Sullen Edom, Zoë watching faithfully.

Mal was hurrying from the bridge so fast that he didn't even see Inara as she reappeared from her shuttle. She had a confused look on her face. "What?" he asked.

"Nothing… I heard screams."

"You hear those a lot on this boat."

"Yes. Maybe too often, I'm thinking."

"Well, I'll suggest to the Doc that he does somethin' bout that right quick." He moved to brush past her.

"Mal?"

"Yes?"

"We're going to make it, aren't we?"

The ship ducked and dove. Inara's knees buckled; Mal's did as well but he didn't show it.

"I sure as hell hope so." With that, he turned and strode in the direction of the infirmary. _Strange and stranger_, he thought as he entered. Jayne was holding the girl about her waist as though they were going dancing, even though Mal knew, firstly, that Jayne hated dancing, and secondly, this was not the time nor place for dancing. The girl herself was fully covered in some green goop, including her face (there was even a little in her hair) and her eyes were bright and excited; she was chattering away as though her best friend was in the room. The doctor was trying to keep his sister from wiping off the green salve. He was the only one to look at Mal as the captain entered. "You need something?"

"No, Doc," Mal replied. "But… Nara heard screams."

"Sorry," Simon said, only slightly apologetically. "She stopped."

"This is the spy's fault?" Mal asked.

"It appears that way."

"What's the green stuff?"

"Ointment. If it works, it'll keep infection out of the rash long enough to…" Simon stopped. "I'm sorry, do you need something?"

"Uncle Max took me to a dinner party!" River said excitedly. "We had cream and strawberries."

"Berries, eh?" Jayne asked. "Better not tell Kaylee; she'll get jealous."

"_Clotted_ cream," River corrected herself. "And scones."

"What's a scone?" Jayne asked.

"Scone: a small, rich, biscuit-like pastry or quick bread, sometimes baked on a griddle," River replied without taking a breath. "After the scones there was dancing. I love to dance. Uncle Max has two left feet, though!" She giggled. "The musicians were so lovely, it was a quartet."

Mal looked confusedly from Jayne to Simon. "She went to a dinner party?"

Simon shook his head in the negative as Jayne answered, "Madness, Mal. She's goin' crazy. And this time, she ain't comin' back."

"Well… uh… make sure she doesn't get any guns." On that inspiring note, he ducked out.

"Never did have stomach fer sick stuff," Jayne muttered.

"The quartet was the same as…" River paused. Simon and Jayne both looked at her; this was the first time she'd stopped in several minutes.

"Mei-mei? Can you hear me?"

"Simon?"

Simon took a breath of relief. Maybe she wasn't going to lose her mind all over again; maybe she wasn't going to die… if they could just keep her lucid and, well, _un-dead_ for just a little longer… "Yes?"

"We went to the Millers' Christmas ball, didn't we?"

Simon nodded. "You were ten."

"My dress was red velvet," River confided to Jayne. "And Simon wore a matching plaid cummerbund."

"What's a cummerbund?" Jayne asked.

"Cummerbund: a broad sash, especially one that is pleated lengthwise and worn as an article of formal dress, as with a dinner jacket," River informed him.

"Oh. Fancy pants, eh?"

"I hated that suit," Simon recalled. "It itched."

"Every suit you wore you said the same thing," River said with a laugh. "And you danced with me, and there were stars in my ears."

"Stars? In yer _ears?"_ Jayne asked, wide-eyed, as though he actually believed her.

"She means ear-bobs," Simon told him. "She had crystal ear-bobs when she was younger. They did look like stars a little, I guess."

"And then," River continued in a hushed, excited tone, "we _drank_ stars."

"You _drunk _them?" Jayne asked confusedly.

"Champagne," Simon translated. "She only had a mouthful, she was still such a baby then…"

"Champagne, is that one o' those fancy drinks?"

"I guess you could say that."

The ship swerved hard to the right. Simon grabbed for River's arm only to have his hand slide right through the slick ointment covering her. She rewarded him with a laugh. "Now you're green too!"

"Green!" Jayne exclaimed, as though the proverbial light bulb had just gone on for him. "Wasn't she sayin' somethin' bout green earlier?"

Simon couldn't remember. It had been a very long day, after all, what with spies and seizures and, well, everything else. "Probably."

They felt the ship start to drop. "Wash better know what he's doin'," Jayne muttered, looking upwards in the bridge's general location.

"Silly," River said. "Nobody knows what they're doing anymore!" She broke free of Jayne's grasp and did a parody of a waltz in the infirmary. She moved as though she was drunk, a right drunken three-step which seemed out of character from a girl who was usually so graceful. "Nobody knows!"

Translations: _Ta ma de!_ - F--- me blind!

_Cai bu shi_ - no way


	16. Fire Good, Aid Better

In honor of Wash performing a Sullen Edom, the move I made up myself but didn't describe much, you can listen to "Don't Turn Around" - Ace of Base.

"This could get interesting," Wash said as he performed the Sullen Edom. He really _was_ very good at performing strange aeronautical maneuvers with odd names.

"Do I wanna ask?" Mal asked, having returned to the bridge.

"Probably not, sir," Zoë answered hurriedly. "What's going on below?"

"Well, Nara's worried we're gonna crash…"

"Which we ain't," Wash interjected.

"Kaylee's still down in the engine room, far as I know, and the Doc and Jayne are… uh… with River."

"She all right, sir?"

"Sides from bein' green…"

"Green?" Wash asked.

"Concentrate!" Zoë ordered the pilot.

"Never fear; I am a leaf on the wind, watch how I soar." He swung _Serenity_ to the right. Something hot and explode-y flew a mite too close to the windows.

"What the hell was that?" Mal demanded.

"Nothin' we need to worry about," Wash replied. "We're not goin' that way."

He performed another daring maneuver that left Mal gasping. "Did… you… just…?"

"Yeah. The PRFO ships just exploded on each other."

"Wow," Mal said, genuinely impressed.

"And now… ask Kaylee fer an engine boost, willya?"

"Kaylee?" Mal said over the intercom.

"Yes, Cap'n?"

"Can you guess what I'm going to say?"

"Well, if it involves the words 'engine' or 'boost'…"

"You read m' mind, Kaylee. Let's go!"

There was a noise at the other end; Mal wasn't sure if it was a laugh or a groan. Then Wash said, "Get ready t' leave these PRFO boys _way_ behind…"

Suddenly there was a great roar and _Serenity_ jerked forward with a great leap. "Here we go!" Wash said delightedly.

Within moments they were far out in the black and the PRFO ships, which were little more than bits of exploded… bits, were far, _far_ behind. And defunct. "Wash," Mal said appreciatively, "you are a wonder."

Wash smiled, a bit poetically.

"Now what?" Mal asked, but before either Wash or Zoë could answer, he heard Kaylee yelling: "Cap'n! _Fire!"_

"Not _now_," Mal muttered, and took off at a run for the engine room.

"What is it?" he questioned as soon as he was at the door. Kaylee was at the threshold, waving a fire extinguisher at a small fire.

"Not big, Cap'n, but big enough t' worry," Kaylee said as she sprayed the compressed compound on the flames.

"You all right?" Mal demanded. She didn't look burned, maybe just a little singed.

"Fine as ever, Cap'n," she replied, still smiling. She sprayed once more into the fray and the fire went out.

"Mal?" he heard Jayne's voice from down the hall.

"Gotta go," Mal said to Kaylee. "Keep her runnin'."

"Would I do anythin' else, Cap'n?"

"No. Right. Silly me." He ran off to figure out what Jayne's problem was. "What is it?"

"We outa the way now?" Jayne demanded gruffly.

"That we are. What's goin' on down here?'

"Mal?" It was Inara.

"Is it important, Nara?"

"Well, besides my shuttle being on fire…"

"Kaylee! Extinguisher! To Nara's shuttle!" Mal barked. As an afterthought, which he would later regret because it made him sound atrociously silly, he yelled, "On the double!"

"Mal? We're comin' up on nother ship, nother Firefly… they're sendin' out a help beacon. Well, technically, it's a we-can-help-you beacon."

"Take em up on it," Mal said. "Let's see if they've got anythin' we need. And if they shoot me, well…"

"We'll take care o' you, Cap'n," Kaylee said as she ran by with the extinguisher. "Or, the Doc will."

"Dance with me!" someone said, and grabbed Jayne from behind.

"Gorram… what in the ruttin' hell…?" Jayne said. "Oh…"

It was River. She grinned up at Jayne, her face a green mask. "Dance with me!" she pleaded.

"I don't dance, girl," Jayne informed her.

"Mal? There's an emissary from the ship wants t' talk t' ya. Can she dock?"

"Fire's out!" Kaylee said cheerfully, reappearing with Inara behind her.

"Was there much damage?"

"No, we put it out mostly," Kaylee answered.

"Mostly?"

"Well, fully. And mostly. The fire's out fully. Mostly with no damage."

"Mal? Can she dock?"

"Yeah, go ahead!" Mal yelled. He turned to Jayne and River. "Jayne, take the girl back to the infirmary. I'm sure Doc's lookin' fer her. See if he can wipe that green stuff off – she looks like a monster."

"Sure thing, Mal," Jayne said. "Let's go."

"Dance with me!" River repeated.

"No time fer dancin'. Got other stuff t' do. Let's go." He grabbed her by one of her green arms and propelled her back towards where Simon was waiting.

Hey, review! Or else:)


	17. Companion Fight!

A really long chapter (but the disclaimer's still the same). There just wasn't a good place to cut the action off. In honor of all this action (and a fight!), I can safely assure you that "Sabre Dance" performed by any classical group would be a good track for this chapter. Antony, Carole, Kolya, and Emilia are ALL mine (and Carole and Emilia are based on friends, so _please_ don't steal!). Oh, and... all you need to know about this chapter: "I really doubt Companions call each other whores." - Mal.

Mal and Zoë went down to the cargo bay and waited until they heard the hiss that told them the fellow ship's airlock had taken hold of their own. Mal hit the big orange button that would open their own doors, and he and Zoë stood back as the doors opened. Mal had already stopped noticing the ponies' quiet chatter.

What they saw surprised them. Facing them was an extraordinarily polite-looking man with very tan olive skin and neatly combed dark hair. He was wearing clothes that reminded Mal vaguely of Simon's clothing when the doctor had first come aboard _Serenity_ – neatly pressed pants, a crisp white shirt, and a natty bow tie (emerald green, of all colors) around his slender, tan neck. He was wearing half-moon glasses. When he opened his mouth and spoke, his voice was lightly accented, quiet, and polite. "Hello," he said, appearing a little puzzled, but that was probably due to the presence of space ponies. "I am Antony, emissary from the ship _Sto__ïque."_

"What's that?" Mal murmured to Zoë.

"It means 'stoic' in French, sir," Zoë murmured in return.

"I meant, what's an emissary?"

"Sir, speak to the boy or he'll think we've forgotten him."

"Oh. Right." Mal put a slapdash smile on his rugged face and said, "Well, greetings, Antony, I s'pose. I'm Captain Malcolm Reynolds and this is m' first mate Zoë, and this is m' ship, _Serenity_. And these, as you may have guessed, are space ponies. Not ours. They belong to Abeni Hedge, leader o' Spake's Fault. I'm sure y' have heard o' Spake's Fault. Great little place… o' nothin' much."

The emissary, or whatever he was, gave a polite smile, but it seemed to say, "Shut up, you fool"… _politely_, of course. There seemed to be nothing he _couldn't_ do politely. "Well met," he answered. "My employer will be much glad to meet and assist you. It seems you were badly damaged in the firefight with the People's Resistance Front."

"Yes, it seems we were," Mal said, unconsciously falling into the boy's speech pattern. "And who, exactly, is your employer?"

Another polite smile. "Her name is Emilia Sage. She is well-known and well-loved throughout the verse, and friends are always willing to take her and those she calls friends in with open arms."

A horrible thought struck Mal. "Yer not… yer not… employed by the _Alliance_, are ya?"

"Would it matter if we were?" Antony asked, obviously trying to assert that it shouldn't.

"Yeah, it would. Just a little," Mal answered.

"Well, we are not," Antony replied, a slight frown creasing his polite-looking face. Then he gave his polite smile again. "My employer would be pleased to meet with you and provide you with any supplies you may need."

"Why didn't yer employer come?" Mal asked. "Is she always in th' habit of sendin' young uns t' do her work?"

"No, she is not," another accented voice, maybe even more polite than Antony's, broke into the conversation. Mal looked behind Antony to see a very regal-looking woman approaching. She was extraordinarily lovely, Mal noticed. Her face was smooth and clear, her complexion free of freckles or blemishes, except for one particularly well-placed and very pretty beauty mark just above her top lip. She held her head high and made direct eye contact with Mal and Zoë, which Mal knew spoke of high breeding. Her hair was golden and held up in a complicated hair-do that involved braids, twists, and knots. Her clothing rivaled Inara's for loveliness, what with its brocades, braids, rich fabrics, and end beauty in design, although Mal could plainly see they were of two completely different styles. "Antony is merely my emissary. I wanted to make sure you were not going to storm my ship."

"D' we look like we'd d' that?" Mal asked, a little in awe of her beauty.

"Why do you have a hold full of space ponies, Captain Reynolds?" the woman asked in return, a wry (but by no means any less lovely) smile coming easily to her lips.

"I told yer 'emissary,' we borrowed them at Spake's Fault. They's… uh… helpin' us on a job or two. Y' speak nice now t' the pretty lady, y'all."

"Greetings, honorable Mistress!" the ponies sang out in one voice.

The woman had finished crossing the expanse of floor between her and Mal and Zoë, and now she extended one slim hand to the captain. "Emilia Sage, Captain Reynolds. Registered Companion and captain of _Stoïque."_

"It means 'stoic,' sir," Zoë reminded him quietly.

"Oh, a Companion?" Mal asked, a goofy smile appearing on his face.

"Let me guess, Captain Reynolds," Emilia said, cutting off a remark before he could make it. "You're the kind who stoops to tacky whore jokes."

"Yes, he is," a voice said from behind Mal and Zoë. They turned to see Inara walking easily through the group of ponies, who moved aside as she stepped through as though she was Christ on a donkey coming into Bethlehem. Her regal eyes were focused on the newcomer's, and her face was holding an expression Mal had seen only a few times; it appeared as though she was a mask, trying not to crack. "He makes very good whore jokes, if you're in the mood for them. He's had a lot of practice, what with having his own Companion living on his ship."

"This is… uh… Emilia Sage," Mal informed Inara. To Emilia, he said, "She's not _my_ Companion. I mean, she doesn't… I don't… _use_ her. She just lives here."

"We've met," Inara said coolly, her eyes focused a mite angrily on Emilia's face.

"Well, Captain Reynolds, what supplies will you need?" Emilia asked, ignoring Inara. "My ship has business to attend to and I'd like to be on my way."

"Uh… well…"

"Kaylee would know, sir," Zoë suggested. She was trying very hard not to smile as her captain fell harder and harder into puppy love for the newer of the two Companions.

"Right. _Kaylee!"_ Mal yelled into the hold.

A moment later, a grinning Kaylee appeared, followed by River. Simon had wiped off all the green goo, and Mal could see plainly the rash that covered the younger girl's skin. Kaylee had changed her coveralls, the last pair having gotten a little singed in the small (but perfectly effective) fire. "Yes, Cap'n?"

"Shiny!" River exclaimed suddenly, her eyes going large like a wee un at Christmas who had just seen the tree lit up at night.

"This is Miss Sage," Mal said, introducing the mechanic to the new Companion. "She's goin' t' give us some supplies and whatnot. What d' we need?"

Kaylee came closer, River following gracefully. Mal noticed the younger girl was wearing her boots for once. "Well, we need a catalyzer, some compression tubing, two buffer panels, a hank of 12-line wire, a few B-17 couplin's if ya have any… oh, and a new fire extinguisher!" To Mal, she commented, "We sorta used ours up puttin' out the fire in Nara's shuttle."

"There was a fire? On your ship? Isn't that dangerous?" Emilia asked, as though she was genuinely concerned.

"Nothin' t' worry about," Mal hurried to assure her. "Kaylee put it out right quick. Both of them. Right quick. Nothin' harmed."

"Well, cept Nara's shuttle," Kaylee reminded him. "And a good chunk o' the engine room…"

"River!" Zoë said suddenly, and everyone turned to regard the girl. "River, don't touch…"

"Cups and plates and forks and spoons, someone's dying and dying _soon_," the girl said fervently, her hand hovering above Emilia's well-clad shoulder as though she longed to touch its pretty fabrics, which were probably smooth and lovely.

"Don't mind her none," Mal said quickly. "She's no harm t' anyone."

"Less she knocks ya unconscious with a soup pot and takes yer guns," Kaylee murmured.

"What was that, dear?" Emilia asked, leaning closer to Kaylee.

"Nothin'!" Kaylee said with a bright smile. "She's downright harmless. She's so harmless, sometimes it's downright borin'…"

"That's enough, Kaylee," Zoë suggested.

"Right."

"River!" Simon's concerned voice echoed down into the cargo hold. Mal suppressed a groan. They were never going to finish negotiating if every single one of the crew members showed up to hold them back. "What are you doing? I told you not to move!"

"Look at the shiny!" River said to Simon, her eyes bright. "Look how shiny she is!"

"I'm sorry," Simon said as he came hurriedly towards his sister, who had planted her hand on Emilia's shoulder and was stroking the shiny, smooth, soft fabric gently. "I'll… I'm sorry. I don't know what got into her. She's not going to hurt you."

"I'm… not… worried about _that_," Emilia said, looking in horror at the younger girl's angry rash. "Is she… contagious?"

"Oh, no!" Kaylee hurried to inform the new Companion. She continued happily, "She got injected with a bad drug by a spy! Then Mal shot him. Then she had seizures, and then the spy got shot again, and _then_ she got the rash."

"A spy?" The lovely Companion's face turned a polite smile into an expression of horror. "You were attacked by _spies?"_

"Just one!" Kaylee said cheerfully. "Once we shot him a couple a' times, he wasn't no fighter. Well, I say 'we,' but I mean the Cap'n and Zoë shot him, course."

"Kaylee, why don't you go… uh…"

"Check and make sure that's all we need," Zoë finished smoothly. "And I'm sure the good doctor will be kind enough to remove his sister."

"Cups and plates and…"

"_We know_," Simon said, interrupting River before she could finish the rhyme. "And forks and spoons. You've told us. _More_ than once. But none of us have died yet, mei-mei."

"And if I have it my way, none of us _will_," Mal informed him.

"Have you seen? Have you seen how shiny she is?"

"I don't think the nice lady likes you touching her, River. I'm _really_ sorry," Simon said to Emilia.

"Baubles! Bet she has _loads_ of baubles," River stated. "Gold n silver n platinum n pewter n all strung up like Christmas lights in every imaginable color."

Emilia had to smile at the girl's innocence, but before she could say anything, Antony remarked, "Yes, she does. Many, many baubles."

"Why, Antony," Emilia said, not bothering to face him but speaking with a bite, "I had no idea you noticed. Or cared."

"Sorry, Mistress," Antony murmured in shame, bowing his head.

"If you're sure that's all you need," Emilia said, "Antony and Kolya can get those things for you quickly and we can both be on our ways." She turned to Antony. "Go get Kolya and get these things for our friends quickly."

"Would y' like a drink, Miss Sage?" Mal asked, trying to be polite. "Sorta as payment fer helpin' us out?"

"You think that's all you're paying me, Captain Reynolds?" Emilia questioned in response, her lovely lips turned into a smile as though she found something humorous. "Well, then, Captain, I think we both know that the goods will be staying with me unless you can come up with adequate payment."

"The sky's really shiny," River said suddenly, her face crinkled in confusion.

"What sky?" Kaylee asked. "We're inside, sweetie."

"And the ponies are shiny," River continued. "And Zoë, and Kaylee, and Simon! You're _all_ shiny!"

"Why didn't she say I'm shiny?" Mal asked, only a little bit hurt.

Zoë had her own private moment of laughter before asking, "You, sir? Shiny?"

"I'd like one of your ponies," Emilia continued, as though she hadn't noticed the side conversation occurring.

"Well, now, can't do anythin' bout that. They don't belong t' me, ya see," Mal said. "As I already explained, they belong to Abeni Hedge…"

"Well, then, I suggest you wave her and inform her that you'd like to buy one. And then you'll give to me as payment."

"Me? Buy a pony? A _space_ pony? No way in…"

"Captain Reynolds, I suggest you remember exactly what I'm doing to help you. From the list of things your mechanic just gave me, I know you're not going to get far without what I can give you. I'll repeat myself – wave Abeni Hedge, or whoever owns these ponies, and buy one. Or we'll be forced to leave and the deal will be off."

"See all the stars?" River asked. "Kaylee's wearing them!"

"Why is she still here?" Mal demanded.

"Why would you do such a thing?" someone asked angrily. Everyone turned to regard Inara, who had been the one speaking. "Are you really so hateful that you wouldn't help a fellow traveler in need? Have you forgotten everything we stand for?"

Emilia's calm demeanor didn't crack, not even under fire. "Everything _we_ stand for, darling?"

"Companions."

"You're a Companion?"

"I believe it was stated that I am."

"Oh, I'm _dreadfully _sorry. It must have slipped my mind."

Another polite smile. Mal, although he was still head over heels for the new woman, was getting a mite tired of all the politeness. What they needed was…

"Hey, whores! No place I'd rather be… than with whores! We gettin' a new one, Mal?"

Yes, they needed Jayne. They needed Jayne like they needed a boil on their private parts, but he was nothing if impolite.

"Stars!" River exclaimed, giggling, throwing her hands into the air joyously. "All over! Stars _everywhere!"_

"What is the _feng le_ girl talkin' bout _now?"_ Jayne asked as he made his way through the ponies. "S'cuse me, Custard Pot."

"Anything fer you, honorable sir," Custard Pot replied.

"And who might _you_ be?" Emilia asked.

"That's Jayne," Kaylee said, still beaming. "He's… uh… good with guns!"

"Until someone steals them from him," Zoë added quietly.

"Howdy," Jayne said, stepping forward. He moved to grab for Emilia's hand, presumably to kiss it (Inara hoped he had better manners than Falstaff Rizzly), but she had other thoughts and brought her hand to pat her already-perfect hair. "Mal? What's goin' on? You didn't get married gain, did ya?"

"Oh! You're _married?"_

"No!" Mal hurried to assure Emilia. "No. Not married."

Inara muttered, "Not that it would matter much."

"I don't like your tone," Emilia remarked crisply. "You should be more polite to your commanding officer."

"Well, I'm sorry. I don't like how you're treating my fellow crew members," Inara shot back.

"Nara has _lots_ of stars," River continued. "Look how she sparkles! Like a jewel, she is."

"Shh, sweetie," Kaylee said. "Come here." She began to lead River away from the group and back through the ponies. When they reached the wagon hitched to Nancy, River gasped. Thinking his sister was having another seizure, Simon turned around hurriedly. But River said, "There's something _on_ him!" She pointed to spy, who was immobile in the wagon.

"It's prob'ly the shroud o' death," Jayne said.

"It's got a heartbeat."

"Or a mouse," Jayne amended.

"You have rodents?" Emilia asked in horror.

"No! No rodents, not on _Serenity_," Mal assured her quickly.

"Hear it?" River bent her head closer to the spy. Kaylee grabbed the younger girl's shoulders and said, "Don't touch the dead guy! I mean, dead _spy_. Ha-ha! He's a dead guy, _and_ a dead _spy!_"

"He's not dead, silly," River said. "Hear it?"

"Oh," Kaylee said suddenly, as though she understood what River meant. "Cap'n! Yer never gonna believe this!"

When Mal turned around, she was holding up a transmitter just like the one they'd found on River. "Wasn't that… didn't you destroy that?" Mal demanded.

"Yeah, I did. This is another one," Kaylee informed him. "Seems like our spy's been gettin' messages from the great beyond, too... great beyond meanin' the PRFO of course. And… he's not dead. I can see him breathin' clear as day."

Mal closed his eyes and said several colorful phrases in his head. It seemed a little bit of a mistake to swear in front of a Companion, though heaven knew he'd swore in front of Inara many, many times.

"Captain Reynolds, the clock is ticking. I'm due on Persephone in… in too little time."

Mal said, without opening his eyes, "Zoë, wave Abeni Hedge. See which one she doesn't want back. Kaylee, destroy that. Jayne, stop talking."

"But I -…" Jayne started.

"What'd I say?" Mal barked. "Doc, take yer moon brain sister and get her outa here a' fore she's bad fer business."

"Shiny, _so_ shiny," River breathed. Mal turned around to look at the girl. Suddenly, a confused look came over her face, and she said, "Stop talking to me! Stop _hurting _me! Simon, I can't… I can't… where are you?"

"Right here, mei-mei," Simon hurried to assure her, going over to his sister.

"It's very dark in here," River said. Before anyone could catch her, her eyes closed and she sprawled on the floor, unconscious again.

"Well, _shit,"_ Jayne said. Simon looked as though he had been about to say the same thing and was grateful he hadn't.

"Jayne, what'd I say about talking? Are the rest of you just standin' round waitin' fer the next train?" Mal demanded.

Kaylee nodded hurriedly and crushed the transmitter with her boot. This time, no one volunteered to save the pieces.

"Miss Sage, I'll be _more_ than happy t' wave Abeni," Zoë said, "but there's no tellin' whether or not she'll part with one o' her ponies. She's right fond o' them."

"I don't believe I was asking," Emilia said snootily.

"You are a _horror!"_ Inara exclaimed.

"She say 'whore'?" Jayne asked. "Cause if she did, this is gonna get right interestin'."

"She said 'horror,' Jayne," Mal informed his mercenary quietly. "I really doubt Companions call each other whores."

"Oh. Well, this could still get interestin', I s'pose."

"Jayne? Could you… help me?" Simon asked. Jayne moved to help the doctor.

"Zoë, go wave Abeni," Mal repeated. "The faster y' do it, th' faster we can get outa here."

"Yes, sir," Zoë said, and left to use the screen.

Antony and another "emissary" reappeared, carrying the supplies Kaylee had asked for. The new manservant was slim like Antony, with reddish-brown curls and a Cupid's bow mouth. He smiled at the crew and spoke in an accented voice. His accent was different from both Antony and Emilia's. "You must be Captain Reynolds. I am Kolya."

"Pleased t' meet ya, Kolya," Mal said, proffering his hand. The manservant didn't take it, so Mal stuffed it into his armpit. The man merely glanced at him once more before saying, "Mistress, Carole would like to have a word with you when there's time."

Emilia smiled tightly. "There's never time."

"You are a _disgrace!"_ Inara was still ranting, apparently, even though no one was paying attention. "You are no better than a cheap, two-bit, common… _floozy!"_

That got everybody's attention. Zoë, who had been returning, instantly put her hand on her gun. Jayne, carrying River, and Simon, on the stairs, turned to look at the usually gentle, friendly, polite, respectable Inara. Mal bit his lips trying not to laugh as he thought, _"Well, Nara's either gonna die or she's gonna fly in this fight. She's gotta learn t' fight on her own. Not like she doesn't know how t' do that already or nothin'._" It was followed by this thought: "_Hopefully she wins. Winning's good_," which was followed by, _"Hope neither of them gets scratched up. Wouldn't want t' wreck the beauty none."_

Emilia's beautiful, well-respected face that had probably pleased so many men throughout the verse turned ashen suddenly. She appeared not to know what to say in reply, and then she suddenly barked, "_Sentite l'odore di come la parte postieriore di una mucca!"_

Mal and Zoë looked at each other, confused; neither of them spoke Italian. It hadn't been standard for Browncoats to know Italian; it would never be useful for them. Apparently Inara did, because she answered sharply, "I stand by my previous statement… _floozy_."

"What's a floozy?" Mal whispered to Zoë.

"I believe she's callin' Miss Sage 'loose,'" Zoë whispered back. "By the way, Abeni said you can have Nancy."

"_Have?_ As in, don't have t' pay?"

"Right on. She just wants a favor."

"Doesn't everybody," Mal muttered.

"But you don't have to pay on the favor fer awhile. It'll be good, we can get outa here."

A sudden _crack!_ echoed across the hold. Mal, thinking something had broken or Jayne had started shooting, looked around quickly. It was neither of the two; Emilia had simply slapped Inara. "I am _not_ a floozy, you common trash! If anything, I am better than you!"

Inara put her hand to her cheek and drew it away with a line of blood on it. "Why? Because you drive a fancy ship and speak Italian? I've got news for you, _floozy_, I can speak Italian too. And I could… probably drive a ship if the need arose," she finished, confused about the blood on her hand. "Did you… _scratch_ me?"

"She doesn't fly th' ship," a voice said from behind Emilia, before the fight could progress anymore. "That's what I'm here fer. Do a right good job o' it, if I say so meself."

Emilia stepped back from Inara, as though embarrassed. Mal could not say why the Companion would feel embarrassed under the gaze of a woman who was obviously her pilot, but apparently she did. Upon second glance, he did as well. Embarrassed to be caught in such a compromising and silly position – two women fightin', and him doin' nothin' bout it. What was he, _feng le?  
_

"Y' must be Cap'n Reynolds," the pilot continued. She was shorter and chunkier than Emilia, with extremely curly reddish hair in a shoulder-length bob and deep, inquisitive brown eyes. She gave Mal a smile. "I'm Carole Trickey." She stepped through the airlock and shook Mal's hand. She had a firm grip. "The pilot o' _Stoïque._ Pleased t' meet ya." Carole gave Emilia a stern glance. "Trouble, Miss Emilia?"

"Not any longer, Carole," Emilia said with a sniff and a glance at Inara. Inara gazed coolly back, as though she was waiting for her turn to be the one slapping (and, apparently, scratching). "Anything wrong?"

"No, Miss Emilia. Just thought I'd check on ya. I've got th' 12-line wire ya asked fer." The pilot held out a hank of what Mal supposed was 12-line wire. "This gonna be enough?"

Mal looked at Kaylee, who nodded and said, "Should be."

"Kaylee, 'should be' and 'will be' are two different things. Nara, go get the Doc t' put somethin' on that."

Kaylee leaned forward and took the hank of wire from Carole. She undid the twist around it and unwound it. The wire fell to the floor in an extremely long line. Kaylee looked at it and nodded again. "This'll be long enough, Cap'n."

"Yer sure?"

"Sure like sunshine," Kaylee replied, and wound the wire up again, securing it with the twist.

"Then I believe we have a deal, Miss Sage," Mal said as politely as he could. "Abeni Hedge has been contacted and she's willin' t' part with Nancy."

At the mention of her name, Nancy looked up. "Yes, honorable sir?"

"Yer bein' given t' Miss Sage here," Mal explained, walking back towards her. "We'll unhitch ya from this cumbersome wagon and get ya all ready."

"Has my Mistress been contacted?" Nancy asked, a little worriedly. "She should know."

"I swear t' ya she has, Nancy. And yer goin' in t' good hands." Mal turned to give Emilia, Carole, Antony, and Kolya an evil glare. "And if'n they hurt ya, you jest bite em good n get yerself back t' Abeni."

"I promise you, Cap'n Reynolds," Carole said, "I will take _very_ good care o' our new friend. Nancy, did ya say yer name was?"

Nancy nodded her big head. "Yes, honorable Miss."

"Aww, what a sweetheart!" Carole exclaimed. "I promise we'll be best friends!"

"Carole," Emilia said.

"Sorry, Miss Emilia. It's jest… have ya ever seen somethin' so… cute? N so beautiful? Bet she's gotta soul!"

"A pony with a soul? Now there's a good joke," Emilia said with her icy smile.

Mal moved to unhitch the wagon from the space pony. "Yer gonna have a good life, Nancy," Mal whispered.

"I know, honorable sir," Nancy said, and gave him an odd but perfectly effective space pony smile. She stepped forward and through the airlock.

"Well then, Captain Reynolds…" Emilia began, but she never got to finish her sentence. A piercing wail cut her off. Jayne came running out to the hold. "Doc says not t' worry."

"What in the ruttin' hell's goin' on? He killin' a kitty or somethin'?"

"Gorram crazy's dyin'… or somethin'."

"Didn't she already _have_ her next t' death experience fer the year?" Mal demanded.

"Is someone hurt?" Emilia asked, immediately concerned.

"Why don't you take your goods and go?" Inara asked in response. "You got what you wanted. Now let us take care of our own, why don't you?"

"I just… we have a very good medic on our ship. He could…"

"We have a perfectly fine doctor."

"Ours was trained at…"

"_He isn't her brother_," Inara interrupted, firmly.

"Oh."

"We better help the Doc," Mal said. "Nice t' meet ya, Miss Sage. Hopefully we'll see ya gain if yer travelin' in this here verse."

"Nowhere else to go," Emilia said faintly. She watched as the captain, Zoë, Kaylee, and Inara moved quickly towards the infirmary and out of sight. Nancy, who was standing in _Stoïque_'s cargo bay, said softly to Carole, "From my understandin' the girl's a mite tetched."

"Poor thing," Carole murmured. "Wish there was somethin' we could do."

"They won't accept Rupert's help. It's such a pity; he is such a genius."

"Then force it on em!" Carole exclaimed. "If a girl's in trouble, which, from that noise, she is, they're gonna need all the help they can get!"

"Good thinking, Carole," Emilia said. "Call Rupert."

Translations: _feng le - _loopy in the head


	18. Death Comes Ever Closer

Well, I bet you know what I'm going to say... the disclaimer remained the same. Song for this chapter: "Without Me" - Eminem. Hey, review while you're at it! It's quick and simple and makes someone's day (in this case mine!) Oh, and the characters that you won't see on the DVD set of "Firefly: The Complete Series" still belong to me. And _polyfimbriroseus_ (aka Rosy Cheek Fern) is not a real plant. I just made up the name because it sounded pretty.

"What's goin' on, Doc?" Mal asked as he came into the infirmary. The captain wanted to put his hands over his ears but didn't; the girl was making some sort of awful noise.

"Well," Simon said tersely and without looking up from the monitor, "this is either going to be the end…"

"Or what?"

"Let me rephrase that. This goes wrong, this _is_ the end."

"The end? As in…"

"_As in she's going to die, Jayne, you blockhead,"_ Zoë snapped. Jayne backed up as though Zoë had shoved him.

"What's goin' on, Doc?" Mal repeated.

"Well, this is the part where logic and reasoning go away. Not that she had much of that anyway," Simon amended. "Then there will be more seizures. And then, if we can't stop it, brain death. And… I hate to be the bringer of awful news to the bad news party, but we're out of anti-convulsant."

"I believe I can help in that matter," a smooth voice said from the doors. Everyone turned to see a well-dressed older gentleman clutching a black bag reminiscent of Simon's. He was wearing a black derby over his white-gold hair. "Rupert Pawtucket, medic for _Stoïque._ Miss Emilia sent me. I happen to have the drug you speak of."

"Well, whaddya waitin' fer?" Jayne demanded.

"I told her we didn't need help," Inara murmured quietly.

"Well, you were wrong. Weren't the first time, won't be the last," Jayne said quickly. "You kin come in… Rupert, did ya say?"

River screamed again and her back arched. Simon looked as though he was moments away from tears. Kaylee was already crying. "Nara, you take Kaylee outa here," Mal ordered, and the Companion moved to obey. "Jayne, you get Wash. Make yerselves useful."

"Whaddya want us t' do?"

"…Make some oatmeal or somethin'."

Jayne nodded, even though Mal had been expecting a protest ("Oatmeal? What good's that gonna do us?") and ran out. Rupert Pawtucket stepped closer to the bed and set his bag on the counter behind him. "A Truth-Teller, is that what it was?"

Simon nodded. "River? Can you hear me?"

"She's probably gone deaf, Doctor," Rupert said.

"Then why is she still screamin'?" Mal asked.

"Because her brain has lost the ability to speak," Rupert answered crisply. "If it could still form words, she would be speaking a great deal faster and more expressively than you have ever heard."

"You don't know River very well," Mal said, trying to pull humor into the situation, which was obviously a very bad idea. "She talks a storm, don't she, Zoë?"

"Yes, sir," Zoë said stolidly.

"She… talks a right storm, all the time. Never shuts up," Mal said, his heart sinking.

"I have the drugs to stop the seizure, good Doctor," Rupert said to Simon, "but I doubt at this stage that they will be very effective."

"Why's that?" Mal asked, because Simon obviously wasn't going to.

"The infection has already gathered fluid. In order for the anti-convulsant to work, you'd have to get all the fluid out first," Rupert answered, gesturing to the rash on River's shoulders. Mal could plainly see that the red rash had turned reddish-yellow, and he knew there was fluid inside. "There's only one thing I can think of that will stop this now."

"And I bet we don't have it, sir," Zoë said.

"We can get the fluid out," Simon said.

"Fast enough?" Rupert questioned.

"Look. This is my sister, and I'm not letting her die."

"You may not have a choice, good doctor," Rupert replied, a little sadly, even though he had never met River. "The Truth-Teller drugs are notorious for their kill rate. One hundred percent. They are better than a sniper."

"_She's not going to die!"_ Simon yelled, and Rupert backed up, startled at the outburst. "We have been through too much together for me to let her die. And if you think I'm giving up, _I'm not_. Instead of talking and telling me what's going to go wrong, why don't you start getting the fluid out?"

Rupert looked into the younger man's eyes with pity in his own.

"You said there was one thing that could stop this," Mal said suddenly, before either doctor could speak again. "What is it?"

"It's a plant," Rupert said.

"_Tzao-gao_," Zoë said. "The last plant we had was a head o' lettuce. A right brown one at that."

Mal looked back at Simon. The doctor had stopped working, stopped moving. He had put his face next to River's and was whispering something. It could have been a prayer. It could have been a plea to his sister to wake up, as the girl had gone very still. Mal didn't know and didn't much care. He wasn't going to give up and let the girl die, let _Serenity_ turn into a funeral parlor for someone much too young to die. "What plant?" he asked Rupert urgently.

"It's a rare species of fern, which I doubt you have ever heard of or had contact with," Rupert said, still looking at Simon. "It's called _polyfimbriroseus_."

Zoë looked at Mal, whose eyes had gone wide. Apparently they were having the same thought. "Sir… that plant you keep in yer bunk, that one that's half-dead all the time, what's it called?"

"Rosy Cheek Fern," Mal replied. "Greek name…"

"_Polyfimbriroseus_," Rupert interjected. "Go, run quickly! Before she dies!"

Mal turned and ran smack into the closed infirmary doors, which Jayne had apparently thoughtfully closed after his departure. He shoved the doors open, reeling from hitting his head, and ran for his bunk.

"Doctor?" Rupert said gently after the captain had left. "I think you need to start preparing for the end."

"She's still breathing," Simon said, which was true. River's mouth was open and she was gasping for every breath she took. "She still has a pulse."

"I know that's what's going on right _now_," Rupert said, "but in a few moments…"

"You obviously don't get what I've been trying to tell you," Simon said sharply, interrupting the older man, something he probably would have never done under normal circumstances. "She is going to live. The captain has the plant."

"The plant may not work at this late stage. Look, the seizures have stopped. You know what that means."

"Brain death," Zoë murmured.

"She's not going anywhere," Simon said firmly. "She's fine. Except, Jayne would say, 'fer still bein' crazy.'" He was crying. Zoë had never seen him cry. "She's… she killed a whole bunch of Reavers. _Reavers_. My little sister, all grown up and killing Reavers! And she survived torture at the Alliance's 'academy'… and now she's going to die just because a… a _spy_ who apparently wasn't even acting under his own free will gave her a bad drug. Why, Dr. Pawtucket? _Why?"_

"Son, there are no easy answers," Rupert answered as gently as he could.

"Were there ever?" Zoë wondered. Rupert for some reason reminded her of the good Shepherd they'd lost.

Translations: _tzao-gao - _oh crap


	19. Plants and Deafness

Yeah, the disclaimer's the same. I'm going to suggest "Imagine" - A Perfect Circle or "Alive and Amplified" - The Mooney Suzuki for this chapter. Did you review? You better.

Mal reached the hallway and thrust his weight against the ladder leading to his bunk. His mind was racing. He was _so determined_ not to lose another one of "his" crew. Shepherd Book's recent death still rested heavily on what he supposed would pass for his conscience.

He almost fell going down the ladder, his boots losing contact with the rails. If not for his strong hands he would have most certainly plunged down to the bottom. He moved swiftly and reached the floor with a hard _thunk_. Then he began to look around in a panic. He knew he still _had_ the plant; its location, however, was a mystery.

Rosy Cheek Fern was a funny name for one of the only plants to survive the Battle of Serenity. Mal, a young and optimistic Browncoat in his day, had desperately wanted a souvenir of the moment when his life had drastically changed. Zoë had thought this was a very stupid idea, but she hadn't fought him when he'd knelt down and gently pulled up a plant, roots and all, and tucked it in his brown coat. He'd had that fern since the day they'd lost the battle at Serenity, and it had grown right along with him. He had put it in a series of ugly terra cotta pots, small but usually perfectly effective. It had grown and flourished, even in the dark of his bunk. Apparently, according to all the plant journals he'd read in secret, the Rosy Cheek Fern's one saving grace was that it didn't need sunlight. Or water. Or much of anything, except, apparently, somewhere to live and grow and bloom. And bloom it had.

Mal's roving eyes found the terra cotta pot in the corner and he grabbed it. Running over to the ladder, he hurriedly climbed up, the pot tucked under his arm. Once he had reached the main deck, he ran for the infirmary, not even bothering to close the ladder to his bunk. Hopefully the plant could be utilized quickly, and wouldn't need to be crushed into a powder and made into a tea or anything _yu ben de_ like that.

"Here – it – is!" he gasped, thrusting the pot at Rupert. Simon looked up, his eyes tear-filled and dull. "She still breathin', Doc?"

Simon nodded.

"Then we still got time. What d' we do, Rupert?" Mal demanded.

"She has to eat some of the live leaves," Rupert said simply.

"Eat it? She's almost _dead!"_ Mal found he was shouting at the older man.

"Look, that's what she has to do. Please lower your voice or they'll think something's wrong."

Mal started to ask who he was talking about, but then he realized that Kaylee, Jayne, Wash, Inara, Emilia, Carole, Antony, and Kolya were at the infirmary windows, looking in. All of their faces were tight and nervous. He hadn't even noticed them when he'd run back in with the plant. "There _is_ somethin' wrong, Rupert," Mal said, trying to be civil, "in case you hadn't noticed. _She's dyin'."_

Simon took the pot wordlessly from Rupert and ripped off a leaf or two from the live part of the plant, crushing them in his hand. "How much?" he asked dully.

"That should be enough."

He gently put the leaf in her open mouth. Mal realized that the gasps for air had become quieter, smaller. He also realized this was a bad sign. "Come on," he heard himself saying.

"Mei-mei, do this for me," Simon said into her ear, even though Rupert had said she was probably deaf. "Eat it." He looked up at Rupert. "Eat it or swallow it?"

"Either."

"Come on. Swallow. You can do that, can't you?" Simon wheedled. "Just for me."

Rupert was shaking his head, as though to say, "She can't hear you," but also as though he knew reminding the young doctor would be as futile as trying to drill a hole through solid rock by banging your head against it.

River's head fell to one side, and her eyes opened, brown to Simon's green. She was looking at him quizzically, as though to say, "What's in my mouth?" But she couldn't speak, and she couldn't hear. Then she swallowed, gagged, and swallowed again. Simon nodded encouragingly; he could no more speak than he could tap-dance at the moment (not that he had ever been able to tap-dance in the first place).

Mal was nodding fervently and his hand, without his noticing, had gripped Zoë's. He didn't have to turn around to know that everyone else was staring in with equal fervor and hope.

River closed her eyes and sighed as though she was very tired. On the monitor, her heartbeat began to slow. Rupert began to take careful steps towards the bed, his hand moving towards the monitor as though he was going to unplug it. "Son," he said quietly to Simon. Simon didn't look up. "Son, maybe it's time to…"

And then she sat bolt upright. The monitor leapt back to life, recording her heartbeat, which was rapid. Simon stood up quickly. "River…?" he asked, forgetting she couldn't hear.

"TOO LOUD!" she shouted, unable to judge how loud her voice was.

Simon held up his hands as though saying, "Hold on, calm down." To Mal, he said, "Get me a tablet! Or… something to write on! _Hurry!"_

Mal looked around the infirmary. He saw the tablet from earlier and ripped off the page with Kaylee's neat handwriting off, not bothering to pick the page up as it fell to the floor. He handed the tablet and a pen to Simon. Simon wrote something on it quickly and held it up for River to read: "_Calm down. Let me help you_."

"TOO LOUD! I HEAR ALL OF THEM!" she yelled. "THEY'RE ALL IN ME!"

This was a complication Simon hadn't counted on – the deafness, and what it would do to her. Now that she couldn't hear outside noises, he supposed that all of her internal voices were amplified greatly. He pointed to where he'd written "_Calm down"_ and then looked up at Rupert. "What can we do?"

"Wait. Time will fix this if it's going to be fixed," Rupert managed to reply. He looked shocked and completely stunned that the plant had worked.

"We don't have time," Simon informed him. "All she can hear are voices. Not good ones, either."

"Zoë, you go tell everybody she's gonna be fine," Mal said. "Don't let on she can't hear just yet. And don't let nobody in here." Zoë moved to follow his orders.

"SIMON!" River yelled. "TOO LOUD! NOBODY CAN HEAR ME!"

He pointed again to "_Calm down_." Then he wrote, "_You are fine. I can hear you."_

"I WENT AWAY!"

He wrote: "_We brought you back. You are never going anywhere again. Can you be quiet for me?"_

She nodded, her eyes wide, watching him. She whispered something, too soft for him to hear. He leaned closer and she whispered in his ear in a raspy murmur, "The spy is a good heart. Make sure they don't hurt him."

He wrote: "_I know_." Then he wrote, "_Can you hear anything?"_

She nodded again. "They are all inside me. I can hear all of them. Way too loud," she whispered.

He ripped the top page off the tablet and wrote on the new page: "_You have to go to sleep for awhile. I promise you are not going to go anywhere. When you wake up, you will be able to hear me again."_

Her eyes went wide with fright and she whispered anxiously, "No. No sleep. They'll eat me if I sleep."

He shook his head in the negative. "_You will be safe. I will watch you the whole time. You will be here. I will not let anything happen to you. When you wake up, you will be much, much better. I promise."_

She read it and looked at him, worried, and he nodded hurriedly and performed one of those old-fashioned childish rituals: he crossed his heart with his index finger. She smiled wanly and then whispered, "I believe you. Always believe you."

He nodded, then looked up. "Dr. Rupert, can you hand me…"

Rupert had been following the exchange and handed him a clear vial and a needle, just what he needed. Simon drew the correct dosage and showed it to her. Her eyes were large, but she didn't move or try to stop him. Then a thought came to him; he set the needle down and picked up the tablet, scrawling: "_We're going to have to restrain you just in case you wake up uncontrollable, all right? I promise that I will not harm you, I just want to make sure that you don't harm anyone else. Remember, I love you and I will not let anyone hurt you."_ She smiled in acquiescence. He put down the tablet and picked up the needle. She closed her eyes like she always did, and he gave her the drug. He set down the needle and waited until her body went slack. He caught her gently and lowered her back to the bed. Then he looked up. Rupert was smiling at him. "Well done, son," the older man said.

Simon stood up; his knees were shaky but he managed to stand. He looked at Mal. The captain ran his hand through his hair. "That was the bravest thing I ever saw, Doc." He clapped Simon on the shoulder. "Yer a man now."

Translations: _yu ben de_ - stupid


	20. I'm Thinkin' We Made Too Much

Whew. Did you make it? The disclaimer didn't change while you were caught up in reading, by the by. Crank up "Good is Good" - Sheryl Crow or "Come As You Are" - Nirvana. Read on (but please don't forget to review)!

When Simon, Rupert, and Mal finally emerged from the infirmary, questions hit them from all sides.

"How is she?"

"Why's she asleep?"

"Is she gonna die?"

"Is she gonna be fine?"

"How's Crazy?"

Mal held up his hands and said, "_Ni men dou bi zui!"_ Everybody went silent. "I'll let the Doc tell ya how things are."

"She's fine," Simon said. "She can't hear right now because of the side effects of the drug. Dr. Rupert here says that if we just give it time, she'll be able to hear again."

Rupert nodded in agreement. "When she wakes up, she should be fine."

"Fine… as in, crazy gain?" Jayne asked. "Or…"

"She should be returned to the state you remember her in," Rupert said. "I don't know what that was like."

"Crazy," Jayne asserted, nodding.

Simon suddenly realized what he _hadn't_ said. He went over to Rupert and grabbed the older man's hands in his own, shaking them vigorously up and down. "Thank you _so_ much, sir. You saved my sister's life. If… if there's ever anything I can do for you, please don't hesitate to ask."

Rupert smiled at the younger doctor's enthusiasm. "Just doing my duty, son. You don't have to thank me for that."

Emilia stepped forward until she was very close to Inara. "I'm… very sorry for the… fight earlier. It was not of my usual nature. I apologize."

"And I as well," Inara said. "I was… too quick in my judgment. It won't happen again."

If this was a traditional apology between thugs or mercenaries or just even normal men, there probably would have been some back-slapping and maybe even a hug. Emilia gently traced the bandage on Inara's cheek, and Inara smiled back at her. As it was, this was as much of an apology as either of the regal, stubborn Companions could muster.

Jayne moved to stand next to Mal. "Uh, Mal? Me n Wash made some oatmeal just like ya asked…"

"What about it?"

"I'm thinkin' we made too much."

"That's fine," Mal said. "Just leave it on the stove and we'll eat it this week."

Jayne nodded. "Great. Thanks."

"What now, sir?" Zoë asked.

"Now we take care of the spy. Then we drop the hostages. Then we get the ponies back t' Abeni."

"And then?"

"Well, if we can do all that, I'm sure somethin' will present itself."

Translations: _Ni men dou bi zui!_ - Everybody shut the hell up!


	21. The Spy Who Wasn't

Well, here's a short one for you. Disclaimer? Same. Soundtrack? Try "Intuition" - Jewel... or if that's too girly for you... well, that's the only song I planned for this chapter. Sorry. Hey, review, please!

"Miles?" Mal said. "Miles?"

The not-so-much-of-a-spy opened his eyes. His voice was weak. "I… need… water."

"I know," Mal said, and lifted up a jug of water. "Zoë, lift his head."

The first mate did as he asked and Mal poured water into the man's mouth until Miles waved his hand for them to stop. Then the man said, "Who are you?"

"I'm Malcolm Reynolds, captain of _Serenity_. Yer in safe hands now."

"What happened to… Wanderlust?"

"We're a ways away from there right yet," Mal said, "but if'n that's where ya want t' go, we can get ya back there."

"It's the only place I remember being happy," Miles said. "I had a girl there…"

"Ah, a girl?" Mal said with a knowing smile. "What was her name?"

"Joan," Miles said. "Her name is Joan."

"Is that where ya want t' go?" Mal asked. "I can have Wash turn us round."

"Where are we headed right now?"

"We've got some business on Spake's Fault. But after that, we can go anywhere y' want."

"Wanderlust," Miles agreed.

"Wanderlust it is," Mal said.

Miles swallowed, then said, "The girl? Is she all right?"

"We're waitin' fer her t' wake up t' make sure she's all right. But she should be."

"Good. I'm frightfully sorry for what I did."

"We know it wasn't really you," Zoë said to him.

"And we took care o' the PRFO. We dropped the hostages in the desert on Hazel's Line. They won't be troublin' ya anymore."

"Good," Miles said, even though he couldn't remember what had happened with the PRFO or who they were.

"You'll be safe now," Zoë assured the man. "Is there anybody you'd like us t' contact?"

Miles thought for a moment. "Yes, I believe there is. My sister. Her name's Aimee."

"I know an Aimee. She's my cousin," Mal told him. "She lives on Winsome Lake. Her husband's a fisherman."

Miles smiled. "Then we are cousins, Cousin!"

Mal laughed. It wasn't the strangest thing that had ever happened to him, but it was a very good thing nonetheless. "Miles, would ya like some oatmeal?"

"We've _plenty_," Zoë promised. "Lots and lots."

"I guess I could learn to like it," Miles said, smiling at her.

"And we'll get the Doc t' come down n look at ya. Make sure there's no infection growin' in there."

"Will he be using anesthesia this time?"

Mal laughed again. "Yes, he most definitely will."

Some time later, after a bowl of oatmeal or two, Simon finished examining Miles and straightened up. The man said, "Doctor? I'd just like to apologize for harming your sister."

"That's all right," Simon said, but Miles didn't let it go at that. For one thing, the doctor didn't sound fully sincere.

"I'd like to make it up to you somehow. Is there any way I can do that? I mean, not now, when I'm strapped to this stretcher as an invalid, but when I'm better, I'd like to do something for you. And her, of course."

"If she wakes up able to think rationally and hear, then I suppose she can tell you what she wants," Simon said.

"And you?" Miles persisted. "There must be something."

Simon leaned back on his stool for a moment and thought. "I… I would like some real milk," he said at last. "I know that's a silly request…"

"No, no, _nothing_ is silly," Miles said in response. "We have real milk on Wanderlust. Once we're back there, I'll give you as much as you can drink. And some for your sister. And enough for the crew."

"Well then, I guess we're even," Simon said. "There's no infection in either of your wounds. They should heal well, only small scars."

"Bless you, doctor," Miles said. He was feeling very drowsy.

"There was a sedative in your oatmeal," Simon said, a little sheepishly. "That's why you had to eat so much. You'll sleep for awhile, and when you wake up…"

But Miles was already asleep.


	22. Up and About, Soup Pot Bad

Okay... the disclaimer changed. Just kidding! Soundtrack suggestions: "Up Up Up" - Rose Falcon and "Happy Birthday" - Altered Images. Read on, and please review!

When River opened her eyes she was frightened. Her heart was racing. "Simon?" she asked, and her voice was raspy and frail.

Then suddenly she remembered what had happened and she let out a small wail of confusion and fear. She tried to sit up but found that she was tied to the bed with wide strips of fabric, which looked like some of Inara's shawls or wraps. She wailed again, and her friend Kaylee appeared. "River, sweetie? Can you hear me?"

"Your voice is loud," River said.

"Oh, _xie-xie, ren ci Fo zu!"_ Kaylee exclaimed. "Simon, you'd better get in here!"

"Is there a party?" River asked.

"There might be," Kaylee said, smiling.

"A party for me?"

"There might be."

"And presents?"

"I could probably find you a present if you want one."

"Today's my birthday."

"Is it _really?"_ Kaylee asked, happily surprised. "Simon didn't mention…"

"He forgets," she rasped.

Simon appeared in the doorway. "Simon forgets what, mei-mei? That today's your birthday?" To Kaylee, he asked, "Can she hear?"

"And ask questions like no other," Kaylee replied cheerily.

"Untie me, please," River said.

"What are you going to do when you get up?" Simon asked.

River thought. "Bathroom first. Then maybe… food? Oatmeal. It's always oatmeal."

Simon laughed. "Okay. Just wanted to make sure it didn't involve wrenches."

"Wrench: any of various hand or power tools, often having fixed or adjustable jaws, used for gripping, turning, or twisting objects such as nuts, bolts, or pipes." River considered that for a moment. "And sometimes smacking heads."

"Not anymore," Simon said sternly. "Wrenches are for…"

"I know. Gripping, turning, twisting. Kaylee does these things to the engine. Jayne does these things to stubborn bolts on doors he needs to get through. Get up now please?"

"Yes, yes," Simon agreed, and he and Kaylee went about untying the various shawls and wraps binding River to the infirmary bed. She sat up slowly. "Room. Spinny."

"It'll stop in a minute," Simon told her.

She waited, then swung her legs over the side of the bed and hopped down. She disappeared through the doors, moving a little drunkenly.

"Hey!" They heard Jayne's voice. "Yer up n bout again!"

"Soup pot bad. Sorry."

There was a pause. "Aww… it's all right. Didn't hurt me none. And now I've got this right shiny scar here… it'll get all the women. Women love scars."

"Not all," River replied, still in a whisper.

"Attention _Serenity_… uh… fam… _folk_," the captain's voice said over the intercom. "We're headin' fer Spake's Fault and should be in atmo in just under two hours. Once we're finished there, we're headin' fer Wanderlust, so's Miles can reunite with his love, Joan, which is right sweet."

"Simon?" Kaylee said.

Simon turned to look at her, and was broadsided into a kiss. "Mmmphh!" he said, but in a good way.

Translations: _xie xie ren ci Fo zu _- Thank you, merciful Buddha!


	23. Dance With Me, You Life Saver

Hey, the end! Or what passes for it, in an epic. Disclaimer remained the same throughout the whole gorram thing, go me! Soundtrack for this chapter? "Waltz for My Father" - West of Eden and / or "Scarletina" - Alaina Gentry. (Email me if you want the last one, it's a great song, and has been heard on the NBC hit show, "Medium.") Oh, right. The end! Review if you would...

Everyone was gathered around the table in the common area after the ponies had been successfully returned to Abeni. Jayne was wearing Minerva, Vera, and Louise strapped into various holsters, as well as a right purty new hat his Ma had sent him – green on lighter green stripes. The effect was oddly charming. Kaylee was serving up bowl upon bowl of oatmeal from the very large pot that was perpetually warming on the stove since Jayne and Wash's cooking experiment. She sprinkled different things into each one – sugar, nutmeg, cinnamon, and for River, berries she'd been saving for a special occasion. Wash and Zoë sat at the table, his arm around her in the usual position. Inara sat at the foot of the table. The bandage on her face was still the only remnant from the fight with Emilia, and the cut underneath would fade with time. She would be no less lovely, Mal considered as she smiled at Simon. Miles sat next to Jayne, discussing the properties of various guns and their uses. It was the first day the man not-a-spy had been allowed off his stretcher, but he seemed to be getting about well enough. Mal sat at the head of the table, loving and appreciating every single one of them. And, for the first time in a long time, despising none of them, not even Jayne.

River, the birthday girl, was on Mal's right, next to Simon. She had not said anything in quite awhile. Simon was smiling up at Inara, and they were having some sort of in-depth conversation.

Suddenly Mal was aware of the girl pulling on his sleeve. "What?" he asked, leaning closer. They had all taken to her whispering; her voice wasn't up to snuff just yet.

"Your plant has a new name," she informed him.

Thinking it was something along the lines of "David" or "Wanda," he said cautiously, "What is it?"

"_Spiritus servo_," she whispered in response, smiling.

"From the Latin, right? You and yer dead languages."

"_Life saver_," she told him with another smile and a nod.

"I knew that," he told her, and gently kissed her forehead. "You're sweet, and don't y' forget it."

"Mal," she whispered. "From the Latin. Bad." She considered her words. "But not always. Sometimes good. But a mite secretive."

"We all have secrets, cupcake," he informed her.

"Dance with me," she whispered.

He gave her a rueful smile. "This is what I get fer bein' nice." But he got up, his hands in hers, and waited until she put one hand on his shoulder and one on his waist, like they were in some fancy dancing school. "Are we doin' a three-step?" he asked, and without waiting for her answer, swept her into a waltz, steps he barely knew but somehow remembered. She gazed up at him adoringly, then rewarded him with a smile.

"Sometimes _very_ good." She whispered the amendment. "And not ever perfect. Tries hard, though."

"Who could be perfect with y' around t' remind us we're not?" he asked, but he was smiling too. "Happy birthday."

"Oh, it has been," she assured him in her soft voice, and they danced on in silence, without any music, unaware that seven pairs of eyes were watching them and seven mouths were open in surprise.


End file.
